Alone Before…Alone After

The late evening of yesterday left me praying for a better tomorrow. I woke up several times through out the night. The words of sadness, the emotion I was forced to endure left me restless. The alarm went off as I was gazing at the ceiling, “Please God, I need some sort of hope. Can this be the day of a lighter preponderant?” I have been waiting for the glimmer of ease in sensation. Could this be the day I find it?

I had decided not to let last night trump the vitality of having my drapes open. Natural light was lifting the spirits. My morning proceeded with giggling babies and a thriving toddler. The kids are showing signs of a more relaxed nature. Positive, here is a sign of the positive I had just prayed for. Nodding at the progress I was making with the house I heard my phone ring. It was notification of a list of desired personal property for my husband.

My precious angels were napping while I searched the house for everything listed. I did my best, but was unable to locate a couple of the items. As I gathered the belongings into bags and boxes a lump grew in my throat. The exchange of the stuff, my husband’s stuff, began to bring anxiety. My heart raced, but I have maintained presenting myself in a calm and cooperative manner. After all I am not here to hinder or shroud any animosity towards the individual whom was completing this transaction on behalf of my husband.

I was met with a flat affect and an abrasive tone while stating to me, “I trust no one.” I lost control of my inside and the tears streamed down my face. I turned and walked away. After taking the kids to the sitter I returned home. As soon as I entered my house I walked over to the blinds to shut each and every one of them. Darkness, it swamped my heart. The sobs of failure, doubt, fear, and more escaped from my throat. This whole process is what leaves the recipient of a terrible aggression in solitude. I curled into a ball and just heaved with struggle. At this very moment I wanted to just give up…to give in. The loneliness I had undergone is what kept me from stepping forward. That same loneliness was continuing to haunt me now.

Relief, I am convinced it doesn’t exist. I cried for 40 minutes. My hair was a mess, I had no make-up on, my eyes red, and I was wearing a ratted up sweatshirt with jeans. My outside reflected my inside. I didn’t care; I was surrendering to the depression that was pressing my heart.

Ten minutes before I had to be to work I wiped my dampened face, “No, you can’t allow the demon of within to win.” I found an ounce, last ounce I had of strength for the day and put myself together. Though my blinds were drawn shut and will remain closed, I picked my chin up. As I walked outside I knew at least the world would see a perceived strength of courage.

Inside remains tore up. Am I back to square one? I don’t know. The stress of living that life was killing me and the stress of surviving is doing me in as well. The hiding of me is a reflex coping method. My whole day I have avoided the net of support that has reached out thus far. Giving up is the internal struggle I have held for hours. It doesn’t appear that any light will be peeking through any time soon. This process is going to be slow and painful. All I want is one day…one day of lessened strife, lessened stress. Today was not my day.

Just Keep Praying…

~Nina~