The kids didn't take lunch yesterday. A whole loaf of bread went missing. I suspect that the son whose job it is to clean the table didn't appreciate the task and threw it all away, an entire loaf of whole wheat bread and the rest of the almond butter. The almond butter costs almost $8.
After paying my rent I am left with $9. I went to the store at 7:30 to get them something for lunch. Normally they would have had to simply suffer until they got home, since the food went missing, but I am home with the smallest who is sick today. My credit card was declined. My heart sank. I am out of laundry soap. The breathing exercises aren't working. Crying isn't leaving me feeling purged of emotion. I don't have tears left just this feeling in my core like a mixture of distilled hurt and disappointment and powerlessness. I will soak in it for only a minute more and then I will act. I must gather strength from it so that I can truly say, "no more".
I can't seem to get the same running start that I did years ago when life's direction or lack of momentum frightened me so. I am constantly analyzing my feelings and trying to identify the thing that has me feeling so, so,... sad? Laundry, unending laundry, almost enough food, almost enough time, almost enough energy, the house is at times almost clean, my work is almost done, my kids are almost developing in the way that they could.... I am going to have to change everything to become enough.
I know that I don't deal with my hurts. I am excellent at simply turning my back on them and closing them out but recently I have wondered how much of myself I have closed out with my hurts because in memory I lack a reflection... it's hard to determine growth that way.
But tomorrow I will again need to give all that I am to be almost enough and that requires that only that moment exist and so I shut out this moment and moments like these when I feel lost and I want to refuse to suffer but I see only one option in this test that life has placed before me - to keep going.
How do I fuel what must be my ascent. For years I knew what I did't want to be and it drove me to do more and now I sit and wonder if I am exactly what I've tried so hard not to become - a statistic. Will I even be able to give my children what they need to be and do more, to be contributors? I can't even seem to hold the pieces of me together.