I am sad tonight.
When you have brain chemistry like mine, it’s hard to trace the reality to any of your fears or sorrows. You can’t just say ‘is it me or is it just my brain?’ because the fodder for your disease comes from reality. It’s a twist of experiences and half-made truths your subconscious will probably never let go, no matter how hard you try.
So, in moods like this, I tentatively–very tentatively, for I fear how tender and fragile I have become–I make a list of my thoughts to try and find what I can comfort and what really is just one of my sickly monsters for a visit.
Tonight, I think of Kai. I watched a T.V. show and colored tonight while he crawled all over me, watched some, and begged for water–for which I said no because the last cup I had given him just an hour previously is the reason why a giant patch of carpet is squishy. I ache because I saw someone make a video of their little boy his age going shopping and wish I had done that with him instead. I am constantly in the fear that I’ll miss out on Kai, or that I’ll prove a selfish, inadequate mother who spends her time on things that never meant anything at all. I’m afraid of losing him before he’s even grown up through sheer preoccupation.
I think of my stories and how empty it makes me. Just where am I going with my writing? Am I even getting anywhere? I should be writing right now–working–not coloring Christmas cards for people. I should be painting, I should be cleaning–any work–so I don’t regret my time or be thought of as lazy, either by others or myself. This anxiety I almost never get away from. I can’t help thinking what it is I’m so afraid of exactly. Failure? But I’ve already succeeded in so many ways and have what I most want in my husband and child. Why is that not enough for the monster or that fearful ache in my heart which makes me sad tonight?
I think of the money I spent today for food because our food stamps was empty, for whatever reason, and then ache because I’m on food stamps. I’m so tired of counting dollars. I wish I could…not be poor? That I could go online and buy anime or books without having to talk and reason with myself as to why I can or can’t buy it. I want to go to the store and get a food that sounds good, not a food that is cheap. And when I see a man with his cardboard on the side of the road, I want to give him more than just my only old umbrella because it’s pouring outside.
Most of all, I want to feel like…I’m not failing. That I’m waiting for some future doom to swallow me whole, because Taylor is foolish, Taylor made wrong choices, Taylor didn’t work hard enough, Taylor is forgotten…
Perhaps I’ll crawl out onto my roof and open my mouth up wide to the sky for rain and the smell of wild forest to go down my throat. Maybe if I breathe enough of it in the sobbing mixture in my chest will quiet. Or maybe I’ll just play an old cartoon and color and hope that, one day, me or someone else will find the right words to say that will finally quiet my soul.
But until then, I am sad tonight. And I hope that is okay.