Saturday, 02 June 2012

• Under the Weight of Perseverance

  To Those Who Feel My Distance:

  I realize it seems like I’m missing. Reflecting on our connections, I can honestly say I don’t know if I’m absent when we’ve met in this place or that, or if we haven’t been connecting as often as before. It’s a blur of time that I can’t look back on very clearly.

  I hear it in your voice when we talk. I hear the surprised tone as I absently fill you in about whatever future events we’ve discussed, and it’s all very different from before. I’ve absentmindedly not told you, not kept you in the loop. It’s not intentional. It’s not that I don’t want to share, include, connect. Thinking….

  …I guess… 

  I’m so busy; too busy for simple description. I have 3 large packets of information sitting on my desk that need completing for this program or that….insurance, caseworkers, employers. A few ‘side’ jobs all came at the same time, not to mention my personal goals. Oh, and of course, there’s those 3 kids that I ensure I attend to each and every day for fear that any random moment will be *that* moment that changed their lives forever because I didn’t “pay attention”…and then that man who carries the weight of our home on his shoulders, he needs some care, and that pesky looming brain surgery…yeah, there’s that too.

  No time for me. No time to connect with anyone outside these walls. No time to get together. To talk. Every moment is necessary…for something else…

  Rushed. Too much to get done in too little free time and too many requirements I have allowed to be made of me. The majority of this, well, save for surgery, in my control, and yet, it’s all spiraling out of control.

   

  The only thing I can manage is survival. To hold my breath and dive under hoping it is enough to endure as long as I can; get as much done, as fast as possible until the next breath can be grabbed…only I don’t know when and if that will come.

  I’ve turned in.

  So, I’m sorry. I’m still here. I’m still me. Likely more stressed that I realize. Likely ready to fall apart at any moment’s silence…and I can’t let that happen. I must keep moving, keep my head down, unable to look up to see the forced smiles attempting to hide concern.

  I’m digging for strength. I can’t stop.

  Or it all will fall…or I might fall…

  And I hope you understand.

  And I hope you’ll still be here when my eyes peek up from below, hopeful to see what and who is around me.

  And I hope you’ll be here to give me strength. I’m going to need it.

  I need it now.

  Your friend,

  She-Whose-Strength-Waivers-Under-the-Weight-of-Perseverance

  

  Gina St. Aubin is the owner / editor, and lead author of Special Happens. She resides in Colorado where she is a wife and mother of 3. Gina is a member of the Board of Directors for the SPD Foundation, and she continually submits articles and opinion pieces through various online outlets such as 5 Minutes for Special Needs. You can read more about her here.
  
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