"What if our little sphere of existence was like the smallest in a
set of Russian nesting dolls? What if in each successive sphere, time
passed slightly faster? What if everyone who ever lived on this planet
we call Earth, all their
lifetimes of achievement, their love and pain... what if all of that
really happened in the span of, say, about 3 seconds? Who is to say what
is real, what is time? What matters, and to whom does it matter?"
These were her thoughts as she lay there beside her husband, watching
an episode Dr. Who. She usually had these thoughts when she was high (and high
she was), and tried to make sense of them later, to remember why they
hit her so deeply. Thoughts about the meaning of existence, life, the
why's and how's of everything. It was part of the nightly unwinding
ceremony. An escape from the recurring day to day hamster wheel of her
life. Their life.
His life was going to work everyday, so that they could pay rent and
the rest of the bills that made it possible for them to live
semi-comfortably. Her life was being a stay at home mother, and
attempting, often to fail, at keeping their home clean. Why did she
fail? It wasn't that she enjoyed looking around at a mess all the time.
She loved beauty. She needed beauty. She loved being organized and neat.
What had happened? She lacked motivation. Motherhood had somehow taken
it, her drive, her aspirations for something higher and better. And it was a drain on her husband. When all her meaning and happiness in life came from him.
And she was just beginning to get those aspirations back. The
motivation. But it was hard. She needed a jump start. A move... a fresh,
clean, larger empty house to start over in again. But that wasn't
possible at the moment. So she had to make do. The task before her
loomed like a high mountain... seemingly insurmountable. Why? Why did
life intimidate and drain her so much? All she had to do was be a
mother, keep the house clean. But its impossible to keep the house clean
when you haven't got it clean yet. When every day it seems twice as
many messes get made, while half as much cleaning gets done.
The depression and hopelessness was there, as always, like a nagging black cloud following her around.
Earlier she had stood at the sink, rinsing her hands after
preparing a plate for her husband. And all of a sudden it hit her, what a
different person she had become from 4 years before. A completely
different person. At least that's what it felt like. A 20 year old girl,
working two jobs, keeping her little spot in the world clean and tidy
and reflective of her, even though she didn't have a lot. She had a good
social life. Could go where she wanted, do what she wanted, when she
wanted. The money she made was hers. It wasn't a lot but she was free.
Starting her own life. Then she and her boyfriend moved in together, she
got pregnant, lost her job, got married, had a baby... and her life
started unraveling. Or so it seemed. Her
husband had joked that she needed a 'happy housewife' pill, and he was
right. Then she could be happy and content as an unplanned mother, stuck
at home with an almost 3 year old, without a car most of the time. And
it
wouldn't feel as though her life was over.
"But
its not over," she thought. "Time goes on. Life goes on, just in a
different way than I would have chosen as my first option. Its like that
little saying I saw on Facebook today. 'Do what you can,
with what you have, where you are.' I just have to live that...I have
to, if I'm ever going to be happy in the present. Happy in our home,
happy as a mother, happy as a wife, happy as ME."
But enough of that. And she snuggled down, her man at her back, his arms around her, happy for the moment. Sleep.
