NOT AN OPTION

I really wish I had the option of having a total and complete meltdown, forsaking every one of my responsibilities to wallow in my own personal pity party. I’d even invite other folks to join in. But I don’t have that option. Other people seem to enjoy the opportunity when it moves them, but I’ve never been one of those privileged to do so. Sure, I would like to spend a few weeks in my pajamas, hiding beneath the covers with boxes of chocolate cherries, Almond M&M’s, Orville Redenbacher popcorn and the television remote, bemoaning every bad thing happening to me, disregarding all the bullshit running through my mind and causing havoc on my daily life, but that’s not going to happen. It’s not an option for me no matter how much I would like to withdraw from the realities of life and just not give a rat’s ass.

I am obligated to keep standing, to keep smiling, to keep fighting for my joy because as a woman, and a mother, and a nurturer, it’s expected of me. Most women know that fulfilling such an expectation isn’t always an easy thing to do. I’ve placed an unholy amount of pressure upon myself and I am petrified of failing. I’m also determined not to fail and fall because if I do, then not only do I fall but those I love most may very well fall with me. And I just can’t have that happen.

I have my moments though. I had one last night in fact. I allowed myself to feel sorry for my circumstances. I let myself feel so bad about everything and about nothing that I spent hours crying like a baby in want of a pacifier. It was that ugly cry too, where you hyperventilate, throw up, and your face swells up all red and puffy where no amount of makeup can hide the truth of it. Then I got angry and I screamed and yelled and called people hateful names and for a brief moment I didn’t feel bad doing so. Once the rage subsided I crawled into a corner with a bag of potato chips and a half gallon of fudge ripple ice cream and I watched Tyler Perry’s new talk show. One hour of watching successful people talk about their success was enough for me. I got up, got over myself, and went to bed.

When I got up this morning, I stood up, I smiled, and I made the choice to keep fighting for my joy and happiness, no matter what it might cost me. I don’t wear pity well and makeup won’t hide the ugly of it. My reality is that having a meltdown isn’t an option, no matter how it might seem. So that pity party isn’t going to happen any time soon.