Feeling the cliche

As I type this, I am recognizing that I may never allow anyone else to read this blog.  So therefore, there’s no need for me to sanitize my feelings or thoughts.

I must admit that at this stage in life, I feel that I’ve been dealt a crappy hand.  On the other hand, I also recognize that I’ve lived a very sheltered life.  My parents did an excellent job of shielding me from the harsh truths of life.  I was allowed to grow up trouble free, worry free.  The only person I had to worry about was me.  I wanted to make my parents proud of me.  I didn’t want to be a disappointment.  Those were my concerns.

Fast forward to growing up and a wall hit me.  I think it hit me after I got married.....the first time.  My friends say that I was so in love.  But I am not in touch with those feelings that I supposedly had for him.  All I remember is disappointment that he wouldn’t provide for us and that my mother had to assist financially majority of the time.  We lived more than beyond our means.  With no apologies to do any differently.

I remember a time when life seemed slow.  I had time to take in what was going on around me.  I don’t know when or where the tornado arrived, but it has been stirring ever since.  I remember when life would have its ups and downs, its ebbs and flows.  I remember feeling the lows and feeling when the tide would turn.  I don’t remember the lows lasting years, I don’t remember the tide never turning in a positive direction.  Now, the lows seem to go lower.  There isn’t relief---unless you want to count drowning and briefly coming up for air as you go back under.  But at least you aren’t dead right?

When do you get too tired to continue to fight for breath?  To fight for relief?  To fight for an end to the low?  I feel like all I ever do now is lament.  Lament about what used to be.  The glory days.  The days of prosperity when things were good.  I obviously didn’t appreciate the good times.  I didn’t cherish and hold on to them while they were with me.  I took it for granted that this is the way things are supposed to be.  My rose-colored glasses firmly in place......now shattered into a million pieces.

No need to feel sorry for myself now.  Now is the time to test my resiliency.  I obviously have it ‘cause I’m still here.  Many times I feel like giving up.  Packing up and moving back home.  But what will that do?  Why pack up and move out? Bottom line: my mother-in-law moved in and she’s been a doozy.  My husband’s family, uh siblings, are no where to be found.  A household, a husband that works mainly at night, children, school, and work.  It’s a lot to juggle, many times feeling like it’s too much for me to handle.  But yet I still move on.  I still continue to use the breath that God has given me each day, to do it all over again.