I am sitting at my laptop staring at this blank screen. I am at the bottom of an oubliette and the rain is coming down, down, down. The open sky mocks me. I am trapped in a dungeon of my own making. Sometimes I want to get out, sometimes I just want to be forgotten. Mostly I am weary, worn down like a old pair of favorite sneakers that have seen much better days. I am not depressed just done. I want to be able to move onto other things but there is no one else to take care of my Dad. I do my very best to be everything he was for me…provider, protector, care giver. The problem is there isn’t enough me to go around. I am so busy doing, doing, doing for Dad and my hubby there is no me anymore. Who am I ? What do I like to do? When is the last time I cared about taking care of me?
I am trapped by a routine I created. I make the same bad choices over and over. Every morning before my feet hit the floor I sit on the edge of the bed thinking,” today will be different. Today I will be good to Trish. Today I will enjoy the people around me, in my life. Today, Oh fuck it ! Today I have to jump in the shower, rush through my morning to make lunches and coffee. So I can rush out the door to a job I out grew years ago. Day after day, year after year my life changes very little.
Some people take comfort in this slow, methodical existence. I hate it. I know that I am responsible for my happiness; however fleeting that might be. I can get out of this dungeon if I choose. Hell, who knows maybe after ONE good night’s sleep I will conquer these fortress walls and be free to pursue dreams unrealized, or not.
As a child I believed in endless possibilities. I knew who I was. I had a level of confidence that was unmatched by any fear I may have felt. Why did I have to change? The innocence of childhood should have an escape clause for disenfranchised adults. A pass for a do over.
On my evening drive home from Dad’s I lied to myself again about how tomorrow I am going to start being there for me. Hope floats = )