L. Personius

The camera comes into focus and we see a nondescript thin middle aged woman sitting in front of a small desk, fiddling with the keyboard. She could be anyone’s mother, but she’s not. She’s a modern day marvel, a medical miracle who woke from a semi-comatose state. Catching a glimpse of herself on the screen, she turns to look at her profile, then adjusts the height of her laptop to get a better angle. She pushes a button and begins to speak:


I want to apologize to the citizen journalist who tried to interview me the other day on the street. I am still trying to learn the ways of this time and may not always respond well. I’m sorry. I became flustered and lost my train of thought and shut down. I’m working on that. I’ve been told by the good healers working with me, that this process will be bumpy and take a long time. Be patient, they say. That’s difficult because I’ve got thirty years to make up for. I entered what I call ‘the long nap’ thirty years ago, 1995. Nothing is the same now. I was twenty years old. Now I’m fifty. That’s a lot to take in. So, forgive me for freezing up when you asked your questions, I’ll try to answer them here on this vlog. I think that’s what it’s called?

You asked what I thought when I heard about abortion freedoms being taken away.

I was dumbfounded. How did all the women allow a bunch of rich old men to decide what they can and cannot do with their bodies? How did anyone think that was a good idea to remove bodily autonomy? What are all the people going to do if those old guys decide to outlaw tattoos! Those are everywhere on everyone in this time. That wasn’t as common before the long nap, except for military and motorcycle gangs. I’m still trying to decide if I should get one.

Their ridiculous fixation with what is between a person’s legs is something I’m not used to either. I mean, it wasn’t like it was never talked about much before the long nap, but everyone knew about it and it just wasn’t such a big deal. Well, that’s not true. It was a big deal if you were gay because they were still trying to get legal marriage and a whole lot of people were getting sick from AIDS. It was probably a big deal to my high school friend Jack E., as opposed to Jack J. or Jack O. We didn’t call Jack E. trans, but I think it’s because we didn’t have the language. All I know is, if Jack E. came to a slumber party in high school, it was absolutely going to be fun. We’d do hair, makeup, dance parties and baking and Jackie was just one of us girls, except for the penis, which we never saw and never was a threat. She could be trusted. Around Jackie, us girls didn’t have to worry about someone grabbing our asses or boobs, or spiking our drink… that is, we didn’t worry -about rape- like we did around the high school (and older) boys. And to think, now there is someone called President who did all of that and more! I’ll ask again, how did anyone think that was a good idea?

I remember that guy, he was a playboy wannabe. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth and maybe up his ass too. In the interest of being fair, and because I’m totally ignorant on politics, I’m going to do some research to find out why so many people voted for him. My therapist is advising I put that project off for now.

I’ve only ever voted for one President, before the long nap. Bill Clinton. I’m sorry I slept through those years because I had a big crush on Bill. I’ll have to remember to read up on that chapter of history lost to my slumber. I hope I didn’t miss too much although there’s been some troubling headlines, which I’ve been advised to ignore. Ignore all the current news, they say. Apparently, the news isn’t the news anymore. Sometimes it’s just made-up bullshit.

I’m still trying to get used to this wi-fi and streaming thing. Before the long nap, we were unplugging the telephone cord so we could plug it into the desktop to connect. Then we’d listen to a twangy sound while it connected somewhere. It took awhile, not like today. Everything is lighting fast! Being online wasn’t really a HUGE thing, because it was an infant. It is no longer an infant. I’m told it’s now an adolescent on steroids.

They are putting together a list of “safe places” so I’m not led astray. Be careful, they say. Apparently, there are lot of dangerous places out there or forces trying to take things from you. Your identity, your bank account, your reputation, your… I don’t know. Also, avoid or minimize the thing called social media, they say. Apparently, it’s addictive and can lead to mental health issues or maladaptive behaviors. I probably don’t need that. Everyone I meet asks me if I’m on Facebook or one of those other places. Are they all addicts?

To be honest, I get rather overwhelmed by the -all of everything- coming at me. I’ve been advised to keep myself unplugged for a good portion of the day to offset the overstimulation. I think that’s wise. I know change is inevitable but I want to be prepared.

You asked how my family reacted to my awakening.

Sadly, I woke up to find I was an orphan, both my parents had died during the long nap. My brother lives several states away while my sister is only a few hours away. I’ve seen them both, though not together. Apparently, they won’t be in the same room, haven’t spoken to each other in five years. That also has something to do with the President. I asked them if they’d forgotten what Dad used to say about politics, “agree to disagree and find agreement where possible.” He also said ‘blood is thicker than water’ and ‘family is forever’ but he didn’t live long enough to see his family fracture. I’m glad he didn’t live to see it; it would have broken his heart.

Sis assured me she was willing to do as Dad suggested -but- there was no agreement, or meeting in the middle, on certain things, like genocide, slavery, insurrection or whether a felon should be President! Sometimes she sounded a bit hysterical but she actually had a good point. She’s been trying to warn me about this place in time without putting me off too much. She knows my fragile state.

My brother just claimed ‘they all’ were trying to cram things down his throat. His throat became so crammed he couldn’t convey in any rational language what exactly was choking him. But he knew who was to blame: liberals and immigrants and the gays, with their drag queens, and those militant feminazis. After that conversation, I decided not to talk to my brother about current events. We only talk about what it was like before the long nap. It’s better that way. He lives too far away; he can’t visit often.

Now, my sister praised the doctors and medical science for bringing me back and working with me all these months while I relearned how to crawl, then walk, dress and toilet myself. All the things a toddler would experience except with a grown ass adult. I’m doing very well. My brother praises God and the power of his prayer, and maybe it helped. I don’t know. I only know it helps my brother and so I let that go too. Even though my therapist knows that if I want to praise God for my awakening, then I must also must condemn him for my thirty year absence. Something tells me to tread carefully there. My brother has embraced his religion even more than he did before the long nap. It’s gotten all mixed up with patriotism and masculinity and guns, so many guns. My sister blames social media for his demise, so maybe there is something to the warnings I’ve been given. I’m trying to pay attention. It’s a lot.

You asked me what I missed the most about my pre-nap time.

A few things. One thing is board games. It used to be a thing, Friends or family would gather on a Friday or Saturday night and play board games. All over the country, it was a big pastime, and I’m sad to see it’s not as much of a thing anymore. I hear a lot of the games are online and you can connect with other players, but is it really going to be the same as sitting right next to someone? Don’t people miss seeing people in real life? That’s like the second option nowadays. If you couldn’t meet up, then you would miss it, that’s for sure. My sis said most people were reminded of that during the pandemic lockdown. They couldn’t wait to get out and see each other, but now they’re all back to the screens, is what she says. But, my friend at the halfway house I live in, said screens are what saved a lot of people. Physically and mentally. Boy, I’m glad I slept through that!

The thing I miss the most is bookstores. I can’t find but one or two in a hundred mile radius. Thank goodness libraries still exist. It is one of my favorite places since the long nap. Quiet. I can pick up one book or many. I can even get books online which my healthcare team approves. I have a device to read on. They say I’ll get used to it. I haven’t yet. I like the feel of the book in my hands, being able to leaf backward or forward through the pages with ease. I know it’s possible to do those things on the device, and someday I might pick it up but today I am grateful for libraries. There’s something about the way books smell, it calms me.

I miss that I missed out on the first of many things. The first Black President. I’ve watched some of his speeches, he seems like a good guy. I probably would have had a crush on him too, had I been awake.

OK, folks, that’s enough for me today. Tune in next month for another installment of Awoken. Leave your questions in the comments. Oh, almost forgot the magic words of the 21st century, “Like and Subscribe” to get more content.

The screen goes black and she turns to someone and asks, “Did I do that right?” They nod at her and reply, “you did great!” .