Self Portrait #7

Mornings.

I find when things aren’t going well, mornings are hard. Waking up and having to get out of bed and be a human and do things and work and eat and function….no thanks. I love my bed. I love sleeping. I love lots of blankets and pillows and soft sheets and books read in bed. It’s my sanctuary.

When my mom died, I just wanted to climb in, pull the covers up and disappear. I never got to do this. Not one day did I get to wallow. I never grieved for her my therapist said. I just pushed through. These past few months I’ve wanted to just climb into bed, pull the covers up and disappear. But I haven’t. I have four tiny humans that are watching my every move. That cry when I cry, and laugh when I laugh. So I have to show them that mornings are awesome. That we are lucky each day we have a healthy body to get us out of bed, and food to eat, and things to do.

I don’t feel lucky every day. But I make my choice every morning. I choose to wake up and be positive. I don’t want to hide under the covers and wallow. I know I have friends I can cry to when needed, not covers to hid under. It is so easy to sit in self pity and wonder why everything bad happens to you. Sometimes, life just goes to shit. Sometimes the path you thought was best for you, really wasn’t, and the Universe had other plans. So it had to slap you up side the head and say….well you’re not listening to my little signs, so I’m gonna turn your world upside down.

I might not like each day I am given, some suck a lot, but there is always tomorrow. The sun always comes out again.

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