The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though i still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you’ve already figured out
Pain is a funny thing. We all have different levels of tolerance, and ideas as to what should constitute as painful, and what has a right to be considered tough. The reality is though, that when you’re struggling with one thing, no matter how petty that things is to everyone else, it can seem overwhelming to you.
I’ve been struggling a bit lately.
A lot actually.
It’s not like I have anything to actually complain about. Nothing is ally wrong or hard or terrible. It’s just more of the fact that I feel like I’m failing in all areas of my life. I touched on it a little earlier in the week, but I don’t think even I was as aware of how down I actually am.
I’m blaming the main culprit on work. Our team has been cut by half which has meant a lot of shifts; great for money, not so great for the family. I think the kids are struggling with it, particularly Bridie and Taylah. I know I am.
The constant juggle of everything, the pure exhaustion from late nights, and the inability to ever have a moment’s peace, is wearing me thin.
It’s resulted in one very exhausted, very tired, very guilt ridden Jess, who is sure she is not doing one thing right anywhere.
Not a great place to be.
I’m falling apart, I’m barely breathing
With a broken heart that’s still beating
In the pain, there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I’m holdin’ on, I’m holdin’ on, I’m holdin’ on
I’m barely holdin’ on to you
On Wednesday morning it all got on top of me, and I just turned into an emotional blubbering mess. Wanting nothing more than to run away and leave behind all my responsibilities, and possibly just get a Kebab, I had no option other than to just sit and cry on the couch for a while, whilst the kids watched playschool. Trying fervently to do it discreetly, and pouring out all my woes into a little pink notebook, in an impassioned prayer for some kind of answer. Something to show me that I can do this, or how to do this. Or even how to stop thinking I can do all this, and just take a step back.
The answer, as strange as it sounds, came through shopping.
I had to do the grocery shop, but really didn’t want to (total first world problem right?) Since my dream of running away to eat a Yiros was clearly not on the table, I attempted to cover my tear-stained face with makeup, and packed the kids in the car to head out to Coles.
Turned out shopping was the best thing for me.
Shopping was exactly where I was meant to be.
It started with a DVD. BJ, who was home sick, found a movie he had been desperate to watch, and begged me to buy it. I couldn’t justify a random movie purchase, but seeing it was on sale, I smuggled it into the trolley, thinking it would be a great Christmas present.
I swear that was the plan. It didn’t quite go like that.
Upon leaving the shop, I looked at him and noticed he was white as a ghost and just miserable. The shopping had obviously been too much for his unwell body, and I felt so guilty that I had carted him out (to be fair, I thought he was on the mend.) Buckling him into his chair, and gazing at his precious face, I made a spur of the moment decision to give him the DVD right then. I just wanted to cheer him up.
I would have given him the world.
So we get home, I put Ava down for her nap and settle BJ in his room with the portable DVD player and his new movie. ‘Can’t I watch it in the lounge?’ He asks.
‘Not today mate. I’ve got lots to do.’ It’s true. My list of jobs is overwhelming.
‘Ok. Will you watch it with me? Here?’
‘No I can’t. Remember I have lots of jobs.’
I turn on the movie and watch his face. He is a little disappointed, but mostly excited. I never just buy new movies like this, especially ones that are solely for him and not girly.
And then I realise there are other things I never do; like watch movies in the middle of the day with my kids. Or spend any one on one time with this little man. That’s always reserved for the girls for one reason or another.
Now possibly I wouldn’t have done anything now, except for the other miracle in Coles. Coming down the pasta aisle, I could hear this song on the radio; I’d heard it before but didn’t know it well. What I did know, however, was that this song was on for me. The words were barely distinguishable, but it didn’t matter. I found it on you tube and played it as soon as I got home.
Again letting the tears wash over me, as the music filled my kitchen.
Realising that pain, as random and as odd as it is, can have meaning. If only to make you change the way you do things.
And I needed to change.
The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I’m an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they’re still looking for life
So I turned the DVD player off, dragged him out to the lounge, and we sat curled around each other for the next 90 minutes. Him resting his unwell body and loving the quality time, and me resting my weary soul, and beginning to feel more like I was where I was supposed to be.
More like the mother I was supposed to be.
Tonight, as I write this, exhausted after another shift, still thinking of the one hundred things I need to do, the pain has not left. It’s still there, niggling at me, pricking at the back of my eyes.
Decisions need to be made that’s for sure, and they will be. When they can be. When there is emotional energy to do so.
But right now, I’m just holding on to today. To miracles in the shopping centre, and knowing that there are sure to be more coming.
I’m hangin’ on another day
Just to see what you throw my way
And I’m hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be OK
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven’t forgotten my way home
So I’m holdin’ on….