Sometimes you just
need to make the best of your situation because it's not always as bad as you
may think it is. Maybe you're stuck in a rut. You may be struggling paying
bills, worrying about your children, hating yourself for getting so
out-of-shape, or dealing with any other variety of ugly shit in your life.
Sometimes, just dragging yourself out of bed and attempting to put real clothes
on seems like Herculean feat. Sometimes, you may feel like you are entirely
alone and have no idea where even start. But struggles at the moment don't HAVE
to mean struggles for the rest of your life.
Do you guys think I
relish waking up every morning to a husband who resents me, a sister who thinks
all the decisions I make are bad, and a stepchild who loves calling me a
"fucking bitch?" Do you think that me feeling like I've lost all of
my closest friends makes me jump for joy every day?
Because in reality,
I wake up some days feeling completely lost. I'm in my own bed, wrapped in my
familiar tartan sheets with my cashmere-soft dog giving me all the warmth he has
to offer, and still, I sometimes feel like I have no idea where I am. I feel like
I'm a stranger in my own life. I will sometimes look in the mirror and see a
complete stranger looking back at me. And I hate that. All of that.
What do I LOVE
though?
Sometimes, my
husband will roll over in the early mornings on a weekend he'd rather sleep in,
our eyes still bleary from another restless night's sleep, trying to adjust to
that beam of hot, Texas sunlight peering in through the tiny crack the curtains
above heads. In those moments he will hold me, kiss my face and tell me not to
worry about making breakfast because he's got it. And it's always the best
fucking breakfast I've ever had. Every time. And sometimes, completely out of
nowhere, he will clutch on to me as if I am his life preserver, kissing my
forehead and reminding me that despite the occasional lull in our marriage, he
is so, so thankful that we've stuck it out.
Sometimes, my
just-discovering-himself step-son will sit and quiz me for hours, as if he is
trying to construct his own mental encyclopedia of all the things I can tell
him about skin, zombies, computers, and the way the world works. And in those
conversations we learn about one another and find one more small fiber of
respect and appreciation for one another. Sometimes, he will offer to help with
the dishes and my incessant compulsion to reorganize our many overflowing
bookshelves, pantry, and fridge. Sometimes, he will do everything he can to
make me laugh because he can see that I need my chin lifted up.
Sometimes, my
blue-eyed, growing-too-fast step-daughter will just text me to tell me she
misses me and all the baking, painting, and Minecraft we do together.
Sometimes, she'll call me just because, and she will tell me all the things
she's learning or looking forward to.
Sometimes, every now
and again, one of my bffs throws me a bone and we talk like miles and months
and years and deaths haven't ripped us too far apart from one another.
Sometimes, they make me feel like they care about the things I'm going through
and struggling with and those times ease a tremendous amount of my stress and
anxiety.
Sometimes, I'll
finish a piece of art, or cook a meal that has superseded the last one as the
new best thing I've ever made. Sometimes, I wake up so energized that I
immediately get to cleaning the kitchen, mopping all of our millions of tiles,
and even find the energy to take a photo of my face that I don't hate.
And sometimes, I
will have to stop myself and really evaluate how many of the small,
hundreds-of-times a day beautiful things fall into my life. The things that are
easy to dismiss because there are "bigger fish to fry."
And that's not okay,
guys. I know that. I know that spending more time focusing on minuscule bank
account balances, overdue bills, and how we're going to buy groceries next
doesn't make my heart feel better. Those big things take over some days and I
feel like running and never, ever looking back. But what will that
solve? At the end of the day, I'll find a false sense of relief for about three
weeks and then realize that I am missing all the gorgeous things in my life
because I decided to run from them.
Sometimes, we need
to pause and realize that maybe we're too close to the situation, and that the
mountain of things in front of us isn't made entirely of ugly things. We need
to remember all the people who love us, the fact that we're still alive and breathing,
and that it isn't always as bad as it may seem. I get that occasionally life can get in the way so much that you feel nothing but frustration and disinterest in the things or people you usually love, but that doesn't mean that you just cut them out. If you love playing guitar, fucking find new songs to learn and play them. If you are passionate about cooking, get a new cookbook and find that spark again among the new ingredients and flavours. If you have had someone in your life for almost two decades, go on a freaking date and take time to discover the things that made you fall in love with them in the first place.
Sometimes, it's okay
to just allow yourself be happy and find your way through the shitstorm in
front of you when you have more strength and maybe even an extra hand or two to save
you from getting lost. You aren't alone, even when you feel like you have nobody else that you can rely on for positivity. There are people that love you despite all the things you may hate about yourself, and sometimes, THAT is
enough.
