Splotchy Sunshine

 I haven’t written because I feel made of ugliness, resentment, and criticisms. I don’t want to codify these thoughts and I don’t have the energy to pretend I feel anything else.  I’m exhausted.  My soul itself is surviving on sighs of complacency and hope for joy on the horizon.  I’m not happy.  I feel shaken.  My foundation cracked. I’m sad.  I’m filling my time with projects and people to keep the dark thoughts at bay. WhenI’m alone, too tired to do one more thing, my breaths feel quick and my heart beats faster while I think of all the ways I am simply not enough.  There is not enough of me.  There are too many needs. Too many requests. And I am not enough.  These seasons always pass. I know they do. This is worse than the past because I have had tangible reasons to struggle. I’ve had to accept apologies and forgive. I’ve had to put my ugliness aside and speak with love. I’ve held my biting words aside as much as my fragile self cont...

Tonight the lump in my throat feels permanent. The parts that broke when he left have lodged themselves in my esophagus, where people refer to when they say, "that went down the wrong pipe", coughing goodnaturedly about a jagged chip that tried to become air.  That is what loving him felt like.  Air, turned jagged, lodged in my throat. Panic, pain, unexpected interruption from something so seemingly innocent.  It hurts tonight, pulsing with a familiar weight as though it's always been there and it will never leave. Experience keeps my head above water. This will pass again.  This morning began with a jolt. The nightmare was over. It wasn't real. Not anymore.  Get up.  Get dressed.  Brush teeth.  Wash face.  Housework.  Housework.  Email ding.  "Dear Melissa, please complete this new patient packet before your appointment next week."  I sat on the couch, folding my legs beneath me, clicking the attachment in the email to be...

It's 2:25 in the morning.  Derek's stomach was growling so he made himself a bowl of Cheerios. I whispered, hoping not to wake our sleeping dog who would greet us with ear-shattering howls, "Have you ever, in your life, been satisfied by a bowl of cereal?" He smiled and kissed me, "I like Cheerios."  Not Honey Nut, mind you. Plain Jane, nothing added, bland give-to-a-teething-baby kind of Cheerios.  He's a simple man. He's a kind man, full of generosity, who appreciates simple things.  We'd gone to bed at 9:00pm. A glass of wine with dinner made us both a bit sleepy. It was the first day I didn't have to take pain medication, just a bit of ibuprofen. I was ready to rest.  It was midnight when I woke to Derek, trying to sneak out of our bedroom. He felt terrible for waking me. I assured him that he didn't need to. I know I'm a light sleeper. I often need to get up in the middle of the night.  An hour and a half later, he returned, apol...