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My Multipurpose Jar

By Brittany Servis-DavisPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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Jar

It's Wednesday in cloudy Washington, IL. The rains drops are spaced out just enough to make me wonder if it's over. I'm lying in my bed and have been since 8 AM. Am I sick? No. Am I catching up on sleep? No. In fact, my three year old is in the living room watching Moana and eating food. He doesn't know what I know. He has never seen or felt what I have. I can't bring myself to perk up. I don't want to look at food, dishes, the shower or the four loads of laundry I have left on the couch so that Edwin has to sit on the floor to watch a movie. I'm in my room instead, writing this. Because you see, this is my first attempt to get a grip on my life and improve. I'm told to write out my feelings so that I can take a look at what I feel and what I know is happening right now. I'm grateful for what we have. My husband is working hard for us. He is in school as I type, studying, and then after a nine to five day he will rush 40 minutes home to see us, eat and leave for work until 10 PM. He does this four nights a week. The rest are filled with concerts, ballet, lessons and church. Those are not why I am feeling this way. It's not the business of life keeping me down. It's not the lack of quality time with my spouse, the lack of free will to drive to the library since we are a one car family, the lack of means to shop on amazon until a better job comes. It is the silence I feel when I reach out to someone.

I am tired. So mentally tired of thinking and feeling. We don't all get the blessing of having supportive and loving parents. Those parents that text "How are you?"

That would be heaven. To once get a call or text from my parents telling me they are thinking about me, they miss me, they are proud of me. I mean I haven't always been the most well behaved child. I can think of so many times I let them down. What child hasn't?

Today, I think of my age, I am engulfed in the repeating events I experienced that now my children are in. When I was younger I don't remember the kind of love and patience I desperately needed as a high strung and emotionally needy child. Both of my parents were trying to toughen me up. But that wasn't me.

I'm still lying in bed. I am not ready to move.

I get a clean slate though. Because I don't see the world they do I get to raise my children with much more devotion to their development and happiness. I have struggled most of my life with fitting in, establishing lifelong friendships, filling the void of a loving and emotionally involved father figure with boyfriends. He tried his best and he supported us in other ways. I was missing support. That word sticks out everyday. How do I support my children when I wasn't raised with heart to heart talks? With patience for failures and motivation to try again? I was raised to get out of the way and keep myself busy. That's not me and never has been. So as I try to establish my most inner self and shine bright for my children I severely struggle. This isn't a quick break. This is me breaking down. I'm tired of feeling defeated and lost. I could use a lunch with my mom talking about kids and life. I could use a dad that insists on spending time with his grandchildren. I could use a parent right now. I'm 29, I should be able to buck up and keep going no matter what right?

Well today I feel like a child, dying to be held and comforted by a loving parent.

I miss you Mom and Dad.

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