I may have lost my spark.
I don’t know when it happened
but at some point, life took over.
Ordinary, hum drum, full of chores life.
And I don’t complain as much as I used to,
I just do the chores.
Change the babies.
Apply band-aids and wipe noses and wash the same dishes
over and over and over again…
Not sure if complaining and creating in a mess was better than this.
This tidier life without expression.
Spare time filled in the same way everyone else fills it.
Netflix and phone scrolling.
Coffee in the afternoon, binging sugar when I feel particularly down.
But I looked at myself today and realized I’m a shadow.
Nothing like I once was.
And maybe depression doesn’t always look like dark thoughts and attack.
Maybe sometimes it looks like hum drum and laundry.
Telling myself it’s for my family. Joy to serve. Proverbs 31 and all that.
I wish it was a joy to serve. I wish I was flooded with peace in the middle of monotony.
I wish I was the woman my husband married nearly thirteen years ago.
Truth is, I’m a bit of a bore.
And I’ve gotten old and lost something that I always had before.
Can’t put a name to it but oh, how I wish I could fix it.
But dishes and laundry and diapers and noses and fights and macaroni and cheese
keep me too busy to fix it.
Leave me just enough time to notice it now and then.
To cry a bit and feel the cracks in my heart aching.
And then go back to life and forget those moments until the next time I come up for air.
Gasping and reaching.