Existing From Day To Day

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“I can’t breathe, and I can’t see

I’m just existing from day to day…

I want to be where my soul can run free”

Those words hurt to hear.  They hurt to say.  They hurt to think about.  “Existing from day to day…”  That’s me.  Existing.  I have lost my direction.

If you’re tired of reading about it, let me tell you, I am certainly tired of feeling this way.  I am stuck.  I’m spinning and spinning my wheels, trying so hard to get out of this muddy spot, but the wheels keep spinning and spinning.  Just when I think I am finding purchase on solid ground, the rain comes down again and muddies things up again.

I try so hard to concentrate on the positive things, and I know there are positive things, but somehow they don’t seem to really belong to me.  The things that were mine seem to be gone.  The things that made ME who I am and tethered me, grounded me, made me feel loved and safe, are all gone.

So much has been lost.  So many are gone.  I have no family left.  There is no one whose world I make turn.  Yes, that sounds spoiled and selfish.  I don’t mean for it to sound selfish.  Before, though, before everyone was gone, I mattered.  I could pick of the phone and make a call to someone whose voice beamed to hear me on the other end of the line.  I could drive across town and watch Dad working in the garden.  I could bring Grandma and Grandpa a batch of cookies, and you would have thought that they won the lottery.  I could tell someone about my day or about what the kids were up to, and there was always someone there who cared.  Now there is not.

I have wonderful kids.  I am amazed, impressed, and humbled by the great people they are becoming.  But when I walk through the door at the end of the day, they dash out.  I love it that they wait for me to get home, but the hours each evening are empty.  Lola is home, but running like a little Scout Finch all over the neighborhood….just as she should.

T is not a conversationalist.  He plays games online.  He watches TV.  He spends time looking at grill-porn as I call it.  He is obsessed with his new grill, and is always looking up recipes or looking at new accessories online.  He helps with the chores of the evening, and then he does his own thing.  That leave me at loose ends.

I putter.  I paint my fingernails.  I iron.  I clean.  Sometimes I read.  I could go hours and hours without hearing the sound of another human being’s voice.  Sometimes it’s all I can do to fight back the tears.  What is wrong with me?  What do I want?  What do OTHER people do?  Is THIS LIFE suppose to make me happy?  And then the vicious circle comes back around to “What in the hell is wrong with me?”

“I can’t breathe, and I can’t see

I’m just existing from day to day…

I want to be where my soul can run free”

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One thought on “Existing From Day To Day

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