Brittany Servis-Davis
Stories (1/0)
Bed
It's Wednesday in cloudy Washington, IL. The rains drops are spaced out just enough to make me wonder if it's over. I'm lying in my bed and have been since 8 AM. Am I sick? No. Am I catching up on sleep? No. In fact, my three year old is in the living room watching Moana and eating food. He doesn't know what I know. He has never seen or felt what I have. I can't bring myself to perk up. I don't want to look at food, dishes, the shower or the four loads of laundry I have left on the couch so that Edwin has to sit on the floor to watch a movie. I'm in my room instead, writing this. Because you see, this is my first attempt to get a grip on my life and improve. I'm told to write out my feelings so that I can take a look at what I feel and what I know is happening right now. I'm grateful for what we have. My husband is working hard for us. He is in school as I type, studying, and then after a nine to five day he will rush 40 minutes home to see us, eat and leave for work until 10 PM. He does this four nights a week. The rest are filled with concerts, ballet, lessons and church. Those are not why I am feeling this way. It's not the business of life keeping me down. It's not the lack of quality time with my spouse, the lack of free will to drive to the library since we are a one car family, the lack of means to shop on amazon until a better job comes. It is the silence I feel when I reach out to someone.
By Brittany Servis-Davis6 years ago in Humans