It’s Friday, which means I’m linked up with the Gypsy Mama doing my five minutes. This week was tough as you will see.
Five minutes, no edited, no backtracking, no over thinking, no wrong, just write. 5 minutes on Expectation
I wait for Lisa-Jo’s prompt, like I do every Thursday at midnight, nine my time.
But tonight my bones ache in my body like they’re encased in soggy bedding, weighing me down.
Someone smells like a hot dog.
We are packed tight and facing ahead. It’s movie night tonight but as always, I have a hard time sitting through it. I could be reading, I could be writing, I could be sitting in the quiet, but I sit through it.
I know that to my children this time is ritual, our family night.The expect it. And all I have energy for is lifting my hand and pushing play. And it’s a cop out in so many ways but it’s all I can offer right now.
It’s been a long day and an even longer week. And some days I know the deep dragging thrust down that comes from depression because I have a name for it. I recognize the signs because it comes often and hits hard. And it no longer blindsides me because I can see it coming.
But other days, like today, I just feel tired. Sort of empty and sad. And I can’t really find words. And I try and stop and try again. And my five minutes should be over by now but my thoughts aren’t making any sense to me. And I have all the expectations of 5 minutes from the past where the words would fly out and my fingers could barely keep up and five minutes would dance from the clock, at dizzying speeds. And my heart would be on the page. My expectations met.
But tonight, this is all I have. Soggy thoughts and weary bones. But I write it out anyway, because it’s not always glorious or even pretty. Sometimes, all you can do is show up and admit that you are all poured out and expect to be filled new for tomorrow.