Something You've Never Done

I was basking in the glow of the NAMI Walks for the Minds of America’s resounding success. The hustle and bustle had great energy, and it was wonderful to see so many members of the community coming together to celebrate the strides in mental health awareness.

I was staffing the Impact Young Adults table. I had my elevator speech down. “Impact is an organization for young adults ages 18-35 who want to have fun. They have activities planned for every Saturday, like bowling, miniature golf, ice skating, museum visiting, and sometimes even camping or trips to Magic Mountain. Impact is a great way to meet people and make new friends. Visit us on the new website www.impactyoungadults .org.”

It was a little ironic that I was the one plugging Impact, as I am a tad older than 35, but I don’t think people were looking close enough to make that evaluation. In any case, I deemed myself an Impact Ambassador. So while Impact members walked, I talked. And did I talk the talk!

So after my duties were completed I drifted through the resource fair and collected as many pens and post-it notes as I could. In actuality, I came home with a load of helpful literature that made my backpack a little heavier than it was when I arrived.
But the finale of my Walk experience was what set this Walk apart from those of the past.

See, my new friend M. was coming back from her house to pick me up by the “big pine tree,” and we were going to go out for brunch. Now, I didn’t know if she was going to find me easily or if we were going to have to have an elaborate phone conversation, “No, I’m under the OTHER big pine tree.”

So there I was, waiting. I attached myself to a group of folks from an independent living organization so I wouldn’t be straggling out there by myself.

Thankfully, in a few minutes, a blue car pulled up with a brunette with longish hair at the wheel. Woo hoo! My ride! I went traipsing over and proceeded to get into the car with great relief. Then I looked up at the driver—plainly not M.—who said, bewildered, “I don’t know you.” Indeed, I didn’t know her. I had gotten into a stranger’s car!

Mortified, I disembarked from her vehicle and went back to wait with the group. I said nonchalantly, “Not my ride…” In fact, that car belonged to that organization, and they quickly mobilized to leave, so I was out on the sidewalk by myself.
I was waiting solo for just a few minutes when M. drove up—in a red SUV. Now, I had been in her car before, but did it register that she drove a red SUV? Absolutely not.

I was delighted that I had a somewhat succulent story for M. at the outset of our visit.

But what was most important is that that embarrassing moment, which would have flattened me a bit in my tender years, was just fodder for a good chuckle.
I couldn’t wait to tell E., the co-founder of Impact, about my baby step in recovery since baby steps are what recovery is made of.

Walk 2011 certainly made its impact on me!