The story could be a novel, but since it would be called, “The Big Book of Whininess,” I don’t think that novel will ever be written. This is still an inspirational story though, at least to me it is.
No one was around when it happened…
When I lost my mind.
Even though I was surrounded by people, no one was there.
No one was around when it happened…
That night I woke up to a crying baby and sat with her crying for 3 hours straight trying to get her to calm down. To go back to bed for 20 minutes and awake to another crying baby.
The night after that when I did it again.
This keeps going for years.
Nobody was there…
That day I was scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees with a migraine vomiting in a trash can I dragged along with 2 toddlers fist fighting 2 feet in front of me.
Nobody was there for that. Nobody believes me either.
The day my sleep deprived migraine had me vomiting in the toilet and toilet water splashed back into my mouth with a kid screaming for me.
All those times I stayed up for 3 days straight to only sleep four hours before another 3 day marathon taking care of kids trying to write for money and clean the house at the same time.
Nobody was there for that. Nobody believes me either.
All those years I spent sleep deprived, anemic and a zombie, a real life authentic zombie with purple eye bags, powder white dry skin that sucked behind my skeletal frame, and a glaze in my eyes. I would have cried myself to sleep those days had I gotten to sleep.
The day I ordered McDonalds from the drive thru because I had to feed my kids despite not sleeping for days. I was so tired, I couldn’t see straight. As I was driving from Window 1 to Window 2 at like 1 mph, my kid screamed at me, “WATCH OUT!” I almost drove into the building. Came out of no where.
Nobody was there when I tried my hardest to do this motherhood deal.
Nobody was there when I pushed passed the pain and kept going. When I believed pain was the weakness exiting the body. When I believed there was no limit to what the body could do except in the mind. When I believed in the bull shit the military fed me, no one was there to see that it’s bull shit.
The fact is, the better the soldier, the crazier he becomes as a result of it.
But nobody was there to watch me go crazy. To know that I didn’t ask for this. To know that this wasn’t something that resulted of selfishness, but a result of selflessness. To know that this happened because nobody was there.
Their voices were there though.
I could hear them telling me what to do, and that I’m doing it wrong. I can still hear them accuse me of child neglect if I don’t mop my floor.
“If you can’t handle this, why did you have 3 children? Stop whining. You did this to yourself. You have nobody to blame but yourself.”
…and don’t forget Susie Stepford-Wife
“Motherhood is a joy. If it’s not a joy, you’re doing it wrong. I can clean my house, take care of the kids and run my own business and still be in the mood to make love to my husband in ways whores couldn’t, why can’t you? I guess you CAN’T turn a whore into a housewife can you?”
Nobody was there when they were screaming at me all morning to get my kids to school on time when my kids weren’t cooperating.
“There’s just no excuse for tardiness. The milkshake your child sat on getting into the car is not a reason. It’s an excuse.”
“Control your children!”
“Quit blaming your children for your irresponsibility.”
Nobody was there the day I actually did stop blaming others to realize that most of my tormenting suffering was trying to live to their expectations. That my life would be so much better without all those people who just weren’t there.
Nobody was there with an inspirational story…
But someone showed up when I stopped living to their expectations. I stopped living their expectations so that I could instead enjoy my children. Someone always shows up to “give me a swift kick in the ass to get back on track to convention.”
They disappear again without helping. Without a kind word. Without an inspirational story. Without anything supportive of me. Without caring about my needs and wants. Without caring about my children’s actual needs and wants.
They disappear without ever really being there. Without ever knowing the truth.
Nobody was there to know how much I love my kids.
That that love was the only driving force keeping me going.
That that love saved my life, many times, from suicide.
That that love is the ONLY reason I’m being nice to these human obstacles.
That that love keeps me from giving up, still.
That that love is my biggest inspirational story when I need one.
Nobody was there but me and my kids. Nobody made me realize who my real family is. Nobody else matters.
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