I absolutely love the morning. There is something beautiful about being awake with the birds and watching the rabbits. Sitting the warmth of the rising Sun while the dragonflies and butterflies awaken. Slowly sipping coffee.
But now, we awake to darkness and spend more and more of our days surrounded by it. Don’t get me wrong – there are so many beautiful and wonderful things about the night. I love sitting outside and just losing time watching the stars. I love knowing, even for that moment, there is more to this thing we call life than us. My problems just seem to melt away with facination of the “what could be’s” and “what if’s” of our universe.
But, with this overwhelming darkness that seems to take over the days – making them longer, my struggles seem to be harder to face. Without the warm sun shining on my face in the mornings I feel alone. Even though I’m not, I awaken with my beautiful daughter. The guilt I feel that I can not be the best mom I know I could breaks me in two.
My depression becomes harder to conceal and my functionality is slim.
I still push on.
The nights are when I lie awake over thinking anything from what I said wrong 10 years ago to the look that could be misconstrued yesterday.
Nights are hard. When I can sleep, I dream of things no one should ever have to witness let alone speak of.
So I don’t. I crawl out of bed, stare at my daughter while shedding a tear or two and kiss her sleeping forehead.
Back into bed I crawl and look out my window. And if I’m lucky, the sky is clear and I am able to loose myself in the endless wonder of the stars.