Misery is a sunset on a movie. It’s sitting in your car, flipping through
stations and having every song
sung by the Who, be about love or breakup.
Most achingly, its having your son cry in front of you for the only ten
seconds you get to see or hear from him in the :two weeks off” because his
father created a situation where it’s all on you for his responsibility in the
eyes of your son. It’s not being able to
think and when you do, only being
able to think about how much you ache.
It’s the pathetic nausea of trying to have a glass of wine in the middle
of the day on an empty stomach when all you want to do Is not be in so much
pain. It’s not having anyone to talk to
who would understand when the only person who would understand is the same
person that all the stupid car-radio songs remind you of. It’s coming to the brink of your dream job
just as the shit hits the fan even harder than ever. It’s not being able to sleep and finding no
peace. It’s putting a price tag on the
relationship you are mad at not working out.
It’s the feeling of alone covered in prickleyness so nobody else can get
iin and feasibly make it that much worse.
It’s the scream in your belly that doesn’t have any freedom to let loose
and trying to swallow it with anything that might possibly quiet the
reverberations. It’s the 30 pounds
gained forgotten when there’s no food in the house and a large portion of
Chinese take-out that should last three meals but is swallowed before the
opening credits of a movie have finished.
It’s constipation of the heart compacted from holding it in. Its looking in the mirror. Its talking on the phone. It’s in books, puzzles, and projects that
only last a short time before becoming exhausting. Its being broke with a shopping
addiction. Its not washing your hair and
wanting to buy makeup that you don’t feel like putting on. It’s post migraine insomnia that wants to
punch a wall but lacks the energy to finish the swing. It’s anger.
And I’m all out of coping skills.
