The fourth week of jury duty came to an end on a Friday evening, and we were dismissed for the weekend, mid-deliberations.

I tossed and turned in my sleep that night, as I had every night since the opening arguments. Replaying testimony, and rewatching surveillance video in my mind. Over and over and over.

On Saturday, while rainclouds were hanging heavy in the sky, and the weight of the trial was heavy on my mind, I received an unexpected offer from Apple TV- Just $2.99 a month!

I thought it would be a perfect time to resubscribe, so that I might rewatch Ted Lasso on repeat until the trial ended. The positivity and lightness of AFC Richmond would certainly balance out the darkness and heaviness of the trial. I Believe!

I had also heard rave reviews about Severance (spoiler alert if you haven’t watched it yet), so I decided to start with that. Over the course of the weekend I must have watched too many episodes, because on Monday morning, when I stepped in to the courthouse elevator, it happened.

As I was lifted up to our undisclosed meeting location, with each ding of each next floor, I felt myself moving further and further away from my outside life. I was physically morphing into some other person. A person named Number 6.

I have been split in two for the past several weeks. Living two very separate lives. Unable to speak about the trial outside of the jury room. Uninterested in talking about my outside life during our all too limited deliberation time.

Split in two. And emotionally exhausted.

Monday was the heaviest emotional day for me. We continued to deliberate. Each time we re-entered the courtroom to receive answers and instructions from the judge, there seemed to be more people sitting in the gallery. The effects and implications of our decision pressed up against my chest and made it difficult to breathe.

I was hoping, upon hope, that as I descended the stairs at the end of the day, I would morph once again, into my outside self. But sadly, I did not.

Perhaps the crushing weight will lift after the verdict is delivered, and I ride down the elevator one last time. But I don’t think I’ll ever be the same on the outside again. Or on the inside.