It shouldn’t be a surprise that when the veil of night covers the earth, my mind wonders into corners it should not. But every time, I react with shock that I could be here in this place where it feels like a void yet again.
Tonight, I quietly ask God to heal my broken, breaking heart. I just want a night when the quiet doesn’t sound so loud and the solitude doesn’t feel like punishment. I ask myself on repeat when will I be good enough? When will I get to reap the harvest of joy?
These intrusive thoughts seem to visit the most when I am having a flare with my arthritis or this nagging pain in my belly. I’m convinced that I have another demon polyp or something else going on. For the last few nights, I have not slept well. I’ve awakened to nausea so bad I couldn’t even sit up and pain in my belly. It’s the kind of nausea where you wish you could just throw up and get it over with. I’m scared to eat because I’m afraid of making Mount Krakatoa (that’s what I call my belly these days) angry.
I’ve been really busy lately, too. There are just not enough hours in the day and even if there were, I’d probably be too tired. My mind is racing all over the place and I don’t want to forget the important things that I have to check off my list. Perhaps stress has a little bit to do with it, too.
I write about hope and happiness but some days I just can’t find my own. Some days it just takes all I have to put one foot in front of the other, especially when I have not slept well. Days like this make me feel abnormal, and guilty. I feel like I should be able to keep my mouth shut and not share the less than pleasing parts of me. I want to be able to fake it ‘til I make it. But that’s not really being true to myself. Or, you as readers.
How many of you can relate to feeling this way? We get so accustomed to people not caring that we give up on sharing. Perhaps we fear being judged as whiners or maybe we just feel like nobody cares. It’s so easy to get absorbed into the minutiae of our own lives that we forget that other humans suffer, too. Maybe we are all just out here searching for that soul who will care and always listen, no matter how many times we play the record.
I leave you with this thought. It’s not a cure for what ails me but it does bring some solace. This too shall pass. And it will. It always does.
Messpot Diaries 