Melancholy . . .

start at the beginning

It's been some time since I've written.

Perhaps you've noticed.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps I really matter so little in this world.

Perhaps the things I have to say that are drowning inside me would get lost out there anyway.

I've always wanted to write, to share, to say something.

But, it's hard.

Even now, I sit, emotions swirling inside me, drowning my soul, and I have no idea how to let them out.

I should be happy.

I escaped a nightmare.

And I am happy.

I live my life now with a certain peace, a certain comfort, a feeling of safeness.

I traded a life of fear, a life of abuse, and worry and stress, where all I did was get through the days.

I traded that life for this one.

This life where I live in peace, and safety, and all I really do is get through the days.

And, maybe that's why I don't know how to express myself.

Because, what I feel I should feel and what I do feel are so at odds.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm happy.  My life is in such a better place.

I often do feel a certain peace in knowing my life is OK right where it is.

I find joy each day, mostly in Sam.

And, I know I have a purpose.  I have my Sam.  He adores me, and in him I find such a pure love and such a joy.

But, underneath it all . . .

Or above it all . . .

Or around it all . . .

Or mixed up in it all . . .

It's there . . .

That certain feeling of . . . melancholy.

Sure, I get through each day, putting one foot in front of the other.

I wake each morning:  dress, makeup, hair . . . motions . . .

Wake Sam, dress Sam, love Sam.

Scrape up some breakfast . . . motions . . .

Drive to school, drive to work . . . motions . . .

Crank out product, lunch, make nice . . . motions . . .

Drive to school . . .

Soak in the love that washes over me, as little arms wrap around my neck and "Mommy!" echoes in my ears, relishing in those sweet moments when I know every motion is worth it.

Drive home, dinner, baths, bed . . . motions . . .

All to what?

Start again tomorrow . . . tomorrow?

Again . . . and again?

I'm merely a human trapped on this hamster wheel, running, in a hurry to get . . . nowhere . . .

The only motions in my life feeling truly worth something being those with Sam.

The only motions in my life feeling truly joyful being those with Sam.

And let's face it, some of those moments with Sam, are not so joyful.  Some of those moments with Sam make me question my parenting skills and make me wonder what the hell I'm doing, because no one tells you how difficult single parenting is.

Single.

Alone.

And maybe that's the crux of it.

I'm alone.

Oh, sure, I have Sam, and for that I thank God daily.

My baby boy is the most amazing beautiful thing in my life.

And by God's grace, I pray I raise him to be a fine young man.  A man who loves God and loves life.  A man who can step out own his own and build his own dreams and his own successes.

But, I'm doing it alone.

And, if all goes well, and I succeed, in a mere approximately two decades . . . such a short time . . . I truly will be alone, as my sweet Sam will move on with his life . . .

And I'll truly be . . . alone . . .

I finished reading a book last night, Chasing Rainbows, and I realized, outside of Sam, I'm not sure I have any . . . rainbows.

There is nothing I'm chasing.  There is nothing filling my heart with anticipation, lighting a fire in my belly.

There is me . . . and Sam . . . alone . . .

Oh, how I long for rainbows, but I have this . . .

This . . .

Melancholy . . .