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Waiting to Exhale
January 04, 2006 | Category: On The Job
I have never felt like this before in my life.
Years ago, I got on a plane for England. I had no plan. No idea what was coming next. Just a lifelong dream to walk along the streets of somewhere else, sunk deep in history and, maybe, the future too.
But even then, I felt grounded in myself. I knew God was close. In each new day, in the kiss of a stranger or in the breeze over the ruins of a castle. There was a sense that I was chasing my destiny and from that, everything was going to be all right.
Ambiguity and uncertainty are unsettling bedmates, but my internal compass kept me going.
Everything was going to be all right.
I don't know that anymore. I don't know that Bear's challenges are going to be met and conquered. I don't know that I will fall back in love with my husband. I don't know if he can support us, when all the evidence tells me different. I don't know that I should quit. I know my son needs me. But I don't know how. Damn it, I don't know everything. I don't know anything.
I don't know.
All my life, I have built up my confidence. Brick by brick. By faith. By love. By strength when I didn't know I had any. Until I was accused of suffering of an overabundance of it.
But now, now I am deflated and sad and scared.
I don't know.
I was talking with my manager today, and I just said bluntly look - the deadline on this next milestone is being moved back and while it seems reasonable - hey, I just want out of here.
Yeah, he said. Yeah, he understood.
These past 6 months have shattered more than my career. This series of bad bosses and bad assignments have shattered me. Until I want to claw at my own insides, trying to shake myself awake because this feels like a long, dim sleep.
I got on a plane with no money once, no idea, but sure I was headed towards my life.
I walk into the doors of my home now, and I can't find my life anywhere.
I think I've made a decision, but I don't know if it is the right one. I want to be Bear's mother, to help him and parent him and love him - instead, I feel his small arm around me. His eyes grow quiet.
Hey Bear, I say - don't you worry about all this. I'm the mommy, it's my job to make this all right.
You're the mommy, he says. And we're a family.
And I hold him, and cry, and try not to. Because he's so little and this is nothing he should feel responsible for. He deserves better, but I don't know how to give it to him. I've been doing it all, which means I've been doing it all badly - because even though he thinks I am - I'm not a superhero.
And I want to stroke his hair and promise, that everything is going to be all right.