Friday, October 09, 2009

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

"Mom, one day I want you to live with me" I would often say to my mother when I was a child.

"You come live with me and Daddy and I will have plenty of room because I will live in a mansion" I would say
"How are you going to live in a mansion?" my mother would always reply.

"I am going to marry a rich husband!" I would tell my mother with all the determination a 10 year old could muster.
She would wipe the curls from my face and give me the look that meant she didn't think I could do it.

I would do it and prove her wrong I would tell myself.

******************************************

I knew I never wanted to be a grown up. While my friends were all wishing they could be adults and have ice cream whenever they wanted and stay up late, I knew what being a grown up was like and it didn't look like any fun.

I was right.
The hardest part of being me these days is trying to figure out where it all went wrong. I had plans, aren't you supposed to have plans? Why is that mine never worked out?

The life I woke up with today is the polar opposite of where I thought I would be when I pictured 35.
I pictured a medium sized house that I owned, a manicured lawn with many flowers that were always blooming. I saw a turret and four kids, living down the street and around the bend from my family. I envisioned play dates with my friends from school and their children, lots of arts and crafts with no worries of glue or permanent marker and a homemade snack sitting on the counter waiting for my children to return from school.

I never once saw me tired from constant stress, worried about how much I can spend on groceries this week or figuring out how people who are educated and want to work can't find jobs.
I never thought I could not make my vision a reality.
I never thought it could get this bad.
The nights are the hardest. That is when E gets down and I have to pick him back up even though I have no desire to. I want to wallow too.
I want to yell and scream and kick and cry, the ugly cry that wracks my body with convulsions of tears. Sometimes I feel like I have cried every last tear and my body can't possibly produce more.
Then I fall into bed exhausted. Spent. Emotionally drained.

That is when I pray for the darkness of sleep to wash over me so I can dream.
In my dreams I have roses of all colors growing on my white picket fence, the fence that I own and there is no reason to cry anymore.

3 comments:

  1. Being a grown-up sucks.

    You are an amazing writer--very expressive. I am crying with you right now, fyi.

    Not that that does anything to help you, but you need to know that you're awesome. I've truly appreciated your willingness to share your experiences, especially with vaccinations. I've learned a lot from you, and I wish you the best. I'm keeping you in my prayers!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous7:48 AM

    Babe,

    I want to give you all those things and I know someday we will have them. I will be strong for you and I will carry us through all of this.

    ReplyDelete

Talk to me