It is said that those with chronic illness or mental illness only have a certain amount of energy with which to do tasks, needful tasks, like personal hygiene and housekeeping. That is why so many with such afflictions either can’t work or perform poorly when working or attending school.
I personally struggle with several debilitating illnesses and afflictions. Some days I can’t brush my own hair, other days I can’t shower. The sicker I get, the more often these days occur. I need help preparing my food. Some days I can’t even feed myself and I need my husband to spoon my food into my mouth.
It’s too much.
But other days, like today, I am capable. I can write, I can think clearly. These days are gifts and I take advantage of every single one.
A messy room. A dirty kitchen.
Lessons in tidiness never heeded.
She stepped over the piles of clothes on her way to get a glass of milk.
It had gone sour.
Of all the reasons one might have to keep a house neat, she possessed only two that kept it filthy.
Her mind. Her sorrows.
Should she obtain a way out of the muck that grimed the kitchen countertops, she would feel a new sort of responsibility. To keep it that way. The thought exhausted her.
The burden of freedom. ‘Twas too much to bear.
She resigned to her suffering.
© 2017 Heather Stephens