The Box

And in that split second it all fell apart.

As the officer flagged me to go the opposite direction of where I NEEDED to go. Instead I pulled up directly in his face. My voice catching in my throat before I even opened my mouth. I could feel the tears welling up before I spoke and I knew I was stuck in the box.

The officer looked at me with this “ what is this crazy lady doing” look on his face, and kept telling me to turn the other way. With the fierce intent of not letting me get a word in edgewise. I wanted to scream but the lump in my throat only let my voice come out in a squeal. My “I’m in the box” voice. I finally managed to squeeze out my words. “ I live right there. My special needs son is in the car and I have to get him out!” Looking like the escaped lunatic I turn into when I am stuck in the box.

He waved me through. I could see that sliver of empathy way back in the depth of his eyes. Causing his facial expression to change long enough just to be wiped away with the next blink of his eyes. He told me to pull up to the next officer and explain myself to him. The second officer encounter was unsuccessful. That officer was even more in his box than I was in mine. Holding his stance with the firmness of a lifetime of abiding all the rules and if things ever fall apart, to become frozen in THAT box. Unable to find all the possible solutions that offer themselves up OUTSIDE the box.

I took a breath. Finally. Taking that deep breath opened the gates to all the alternative possibilities that I could choose from instead of remaining in my box and insisting on only that one way that I get stuck on when frozen inside my box. I did a mental check list, checked off all the alternatives, now that I saw that there were possible solutions to divert the approaching disaster. Allowing me to obey the law and turning the vehicle around in the direction they told me to go. Not that I really expected to cross through the crime scene of a police shooting. But hell, I tried.

As I am hanging out inside the van pulled up at the closest gas station parking lot, waiting to be allowed to get in to my apartment complex, the reality sets in that with every progress I make, I still have plenty of work cut out to stay box-free.