Some Days

Some days are just great. I fly through them as if I have always lived happily like this. I smile, I go out to eat, I chatter with friends, the time goes by without me noticing. Texts and emails asking me how I am are easy to answer. I enjoy the tasks I have to do around the house and I look to find more things for me to do. I clean out drawers and closets in anticipation of my new life, the joy of my aloneness.

But not other days. Other days, I feel like there is a dark, heavy, wet blanket draped over my entire life, following me wherever I go, weighing me down, making every move an unpleasant chore. I get out of bed in the morning and immediately want to crawl back in. Moving is like trudging through molasses. On these days time goes slowly. There is nothing I want to do. I force myself to take care of business, talk to Dad, interact, make phone calls, take care of the house. I live in a fragile place where one person's wrong comment can cause me to retreat into a deep emotional hole. I am hypersensitive, a wounded little bird. The divorce seems larger than life, like it will never end, like it will dominate my entire future and destroy me. It's days like these when I most need the encouragement of those I love. Texts and emails asking me how I am are not so easy to answer, and I try to be honest without blowing people away or sounding histrionic.