I...am tired. And not in a “Ok, Day, it’s been fun but that’s enough for now” kind of way. It’s more of a “Lord, why am I like this?” type deal. An overall sense of exhaustion at being me.
I wake up each morning bombarded by choices-
to be cheerful, or not
to be thankful, or complain
to be comfortable in my skin, or dislike how I look
to forgive myself for yesterday’s mistakes, or let the shame immobilize me
to speak my mind, or pretend I have no opinion
to see beauty, or find fault
to have one cup of coffee, or three
And that’s all before six a.m.
There are storm clouds that follow me around. Sometimes they catch up; on those days, choosing is tough. If I don’t make the choice, the clouds do it for me, and I get caught in the storm for days...months...it doesn’t matter which, it always feels like an eternity when I’m standing in the rain.
Being stuck between outrunning the storm or drowning in it is maybe what’s so tiring; or maybe it’s the fear that the sun won’t shine again. I always think, I can decide my way out of the downpour. Refuse to let the raindrops hit me by choosing the right thing; joy over sorrow, contentment over jealousy, oatmeal over cookies...
It works, until it doesn’t. And then all I’m left with is...me. It’s how I am. Mostly sunny with a 100% chance of rain, and not an umbrella to be found.