Maybe it’s the time of year, maybe it’s the stress, the time of day, lack of sleep, constant needs or road blocks that seem to be up at every turn I make. But this morning, long after the kid woke me up, way after I should have been up, I turned the alarm clock off -for the third time, and rolled over. My get up and go, has got up and left without me. And today there was nothing more that I wanted to do than pull the blankets over my head and just forget that the world out there existed.
I calculated how long I could actually stay in bed, without being noticed, and the thoughts made me cringe. I had until lunch time, before someone would actually start complaining. I had until about 3 before someone started calling. I had until dinner time before someone would come looking. Looking for food, for help, for comfort, for answers. My mind flipped between two very dark places – either getting up, or staying in bed.
The former won.
As it always does. And always will. Because giving up just never seems to be an option for me.
I’ll be the fool still standing here as the world crumbles around and no one else exists.
I didn’t push any issues that I normally would. Didn’t argue with the fact that someone would only eat at a snails pace, putting us out the door ten minutes late. I didn’t argue when the same someone didn’t want to wear a coat, and didn’t want to wear shoes, and really didn’t want to wear clothes in general. I didn’t try and convince him -like most mornings, that clothes were needed, shoes important, and a coat would be for his benefit. Instead I listened to his whining, and did it anyways.
He was late to school, and while I got an ear full about being on time, I watched as he dropped his items, one by one, as he made his way down the hall, wondering how long the pants would stay on today. Because with comfort, comes problems. And in his situation -when he is comfortable, the pants come off. Its been a while since we have had the public inspect his underwear, but its coming.
My mind didn’t even argue with myself when I realized I was out of good coffee, and had to settle on cheap, pre-ground, expired coffee that sits unused in the back cupboard for days like today. Days when: it just doesn’t seem to matter. Days when one more thing will break it. Days when the blankets seem like the only thing keeping me from loosing whatever mind I have left. Days where getting up is harder than giving up.
But for reasons unknown: perhaps the looming deadlines, the dinner interruptions, the homework helps, the nagging presence of dirty dishes -I get up. For just one more day. I push the dark thoughts aside, and reason with myself that one more day wont make or break it. I decide that instead of wondering how I got here, maybe I should ask how am I going to get out of here, even though that thought sends chills down my spine because I DO NOT KNOW, at least it’s a thought that will be productive, and lead me towards the future, instead of to the past.
The past that seems oh so inviting and comforting. The past that yells from the dark shadows. Taunting, teasing, testing.
I know the bad days don’t last forever, but I am also very aware that the good days are even shorter lived. I know that the bad days are right around the corner from the good days, and that thought is enough to drive me back. Back as far as I can go to somehow untangle this mad mess of confusion I have landed myself in. To somehow undo everything that has caused today to be like it is. To somehow get me away from where I am today.
To keep me from signing papers, and ignoring the words, and doing what I HOPE is best.
Because at the end of the day, there really is nothing.
There is no hope.
There is no concrete answer that going through ALL of this, will lead to the best results. There are no proven facts that anything I do, will be worth anything, ever. There is no one saying that I have to be out of bed in the morning, and there is no one that will come looking until dinner time -if only for their own needs.
There is no solid answer. There just. Isn’t.