Life apparently goes on…

The main problem with life is that it goes on. And on. And on. And on.

People say that like it’s supposed to comfort you. Like, if you don’t get the contract you wanted or your birth was a complete disaster or your ouma dies and your dad or your friend will inevitably say, oh, well, life goes on. As if it’s supposed to make me feel better, somehow, knowing that not only do I have to deal with this stupid bleeding heartache, but even while I gingerly nurse that hurt I still have to keep making my stumbling way through this world.

Life goes on even after you’ve decided to start cutting down on responsibilities. Life goes on after you’ve messed around in the sun so much over the weekend, knowing all the while that you’re fucking around and thinking about sunscreen, you are going to hate yourself the next day for it-  life goes on.

Life goes on after the good stuff, too. Like that weekend without kids I get to spend my husband, when both of us are happy and relaxed. When I am sitting on the couch, the business of the day wrapped up, and there is a delicious breeze coming from somewhere, and I can smell the jasmine in the living room. The mornings at work when the leaves on the acorn tree outside the office are shiny, broad and lime green and it makes a soft shushing sound above me. The nights when I ca’t sleep and I go outside, when the streetlights on Northumberland are hazy, and the world smells like dew. These kind of moments that I feel nostalgic for even as I’m living through it.

But life goes on. And on and on…

You don’t get to hit pause button or take a break from living. Even if you stay perfectly still and will everything around you to do the same, life still goes on- like a big train driving right over you. There’s no chance to sit back and appraise the situation, no time to collect your wits or figure out what you’re going to do next. And when the train hits you and you are all bruised up and hurting. Life WILL go on.

I really love living. I love being here, but sometimes it hurts and I just want to take a breath.

Which isn’t easy.

It’s not that I want to be unhappy, I am one of those people who play and replay scenarios over and over in my head trying to figure our what I could have done different.

And, I mean, we could sit and analyze all the reasons why I act this way, but in all honesty it is just the way it is. Shit happened once upon a time, some of it my own fault and now I am here.

Because life goes on and I’ll have another long day tomorrow  (starting at 3am and ending at 3pm) and get home to the girls, curl up on the sleeper couch and try to take a short nap. And then I’ll get up and run around the house and maybe wash the dishes or start dinner since life goes on.

I wish I could tell you that it would get better- but all I can say is that LIFE GOES ON. I wish I could tell you that I wasn’t sitting here in a seething fury after witnessing something truly horrible on Sunday. I wish I could tell you but I can’t. And life will go on tomorrow.

I want to thank each one of you for always reading my posts. For all the emails and I hope we all make sense of all of this one day.

 

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