Balls.

It isn’t easy to stay in a good place. It takes a lot of work. Juggling. Some days the work seems effortless; the ball is tossed up and caught with ease. And other days I can’t catch the ball. It feels like an anvil resting on my weakened shoulders. Hunching me over. Only gazing at my feet as I move through the day. I had some of those days this past week.

I know I’m missing my dad.  

I have a picture of us on my desk. To the right of my monitor. We are both smiling really big. I’ve had it there since before he passed. I remember taking the photo and I remember us laughing because I was taking it as a selfie – trying to get both our heads in the frame. Using technology from seven years ago, it was a challenging task full of hilarity. On Tuesday I could see the stubble in his beard and on Wednesday it was just a photograph again.

I had been tired all week, wanting to stay asleep longer. None of my clothes felt like they fit right and I dropped nearly everything I touched.

On Wednesday I wasn’t able to present my artificial happiness while at work. The unknown sadness bled through and people could see the stain. Asking if I was ok. That makes me uncomfortable. I never know what to say. The old ‘people pleaser’ self wants to say “I’m fine, just busy” and the recovery self wants to say “I don’t know, I’m just sad, I just woke up like this”. As sometimes THAT is not a good idea. Especially at work where there is a cornucopia of personalities and judgements. Plus, I didn’t really know what was wrong. And saying THAT makes people think you’re lying and you just don’t want to tell them what’s going on. After I went home for the day I took a two hour nap. I haven’t napped (unless I’ve been trying to kill a headache) since I was pregnant with my son. He’s six.

Thursday was better than Wednesday but I still felt like I was in observation mode. Taking everything in but not actively participating.

And then, as quick as the storm rolled in, the clouds lifted. I started catching the happiness ball. Friday was good. My wit returned, I arose rested. Got myself together. I didn’t drop any balls. Kept them all up in the air in smooth circulation.

Then I questioned the happiness. I tried to analyze it as much as the sadness. What changed? Nothing. This is just how it works.

Sometimes I stay in the good place; I catch each ball I toss up. And sometimes, without warning or reason, I cannot. And all the balls drop. I just have to accept it. Monday was the start, Wednesday it peaked and Friday it was gone. I think I’m not alone in this fluctuation. I know I’m not. Because I can read rooms and I can see people shift in and out. I just wonder if they analyze it as much as I do or if they just roll with it. I wonder if they know why they are not happy or if they are just as dumbfounded as I.

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2 thoughts on “Balls.

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  1. I can relate so much to this..it’s spot on…I think that’s why it takes people so long to get help because they have good days between the bad and it gives them hope that they really are ok,and they feel like it’s normal to have bad days as long as there is good…but I’m realizing that is not the case. Thank you so much for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

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