Looks can be deceiving. There’s darkness and sorrow and ill wishes. Longing for an ending of all endings. For THE ending.
Everyone gets sad. Everyone has bad days. True. But, not everyone goes as deep and as dark as others. Not everyone has just an “off day”. A one and done. It’s not always that simple.
Some people think it’s so easy. “You have so much to live for,” “you have so much to be happy about.” That may be apparent to outsiders, but those outsiders don’t understand life on the inside.
The constant feeling of not doing good, not being good enough, not being enough period. It’s heavy. A weight so heavy, sometimes breathing is a challenge. You’re alone. Not in the physical sense; there are people. All around, everywhere. But they aren’t really there. For you at least.
You carry the load, wearing your smile. Doing all that’s expected if you. Get out of bed. Get the kids off to school. Get to work. Do your work. Get kids from school. Take them to appointments. Pay the bills. Get the groceries. Clean the house. Do the laundry. Pick up dog shit. Did I shower today? When’s the last time I did?
Time to put yourself first for a moment and take a steaming shower. The minute you step inside the tub though, you’ve got a kid at the door asking where this or that is. Hurry up, make your shower a quick in-and-out and go help the kid. So much for me time.
Bedtime. Pills. Heat the rice pack. For the intense pain in your back. Take some time to unwind. Finally, a little me time. Just kidding. Send the kids to bed 27 more times. Time for bed myself so I can repeat the motions tomorrow.
That’s not so bad though. Right? Everyone has responsibilities. It’s just part of being an adult. Being a mom. Being a wife. What they don’t see though, is between the lines. They don’t see the meltdowns or the mood swings. The inability to reason something simple. To have a 40 minute heated argument about why the crust should be eaten. Or why a shower should be taken. Or a brace should be worn.
They don’t see what you see. They don’t feel what you feel. They don’t know what you know. They don’t LIVE what you live. They don’t understand. They may say they do, but they don’t. There aren’t a lot that do, but a select few.
Those who know, we are the unicorns of the world. United by our knowledge. That consisting of our understanding of the lives each leads. Even if we don’t all know each other, we all get each other.
I wish I knew more of them. The unicorns. But with everything on our plates, it’s not like we’d have time to have a get-together anyway. We’ve got our hands full trying to be the glue that holds everything together, even though we, ourselves, are falling apart.
It’s a cycle. A vicious, vicious cycle. So we just sit here and we smile.
“You look happy.”
