Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on darkness.
Go.

It's starting to get really dark really early in NY now. As much as I find comfort and peace in the dark, a still quiet, even I get a little over a 4:30 sunset. But, regardless, the darkness has settled in. The sun comes up much later and sets much too early, so most of the day is without light.

I too am surrounded in a cloud of dark right now, and once again, I am reaching my darkest hour. Things are unraveling quickly, my patience could not be thinner, my ability to care about all of the details all of the time, that too is thinning. I am less kind, I am more hostile, I am tired, I snap, there is a lot of crying, there is a lot of what ifs, there is a lot of pressure and there is a feeling of a foot constantly on my chest. I am struggling to find my actual breath, the one I go to my mat for. Even there, the thoughts race and my breath is too heavy, I am too heavy right now.

And so, I have to start my climb back up. I have to find my way out and remember that everything is temporary and I am so close to the end of my year and leaving a 20-year career is freaking hard, and there are a lot of feelings that have to be processed, and people around me have a lot of feelings to process, and goodbye will be rough on only me. But, this was my decision. I asked to go. And, most importantly, what someone told me months ago...Sabrina, you're a good person. Regardless if you are running a nonprofit for kids or not, you are a good person.

I will light my candles. I will make sure my Christmas tree is on. I will watch the twinkle of the lights. I will work by a little light next to my office space, I will embrace these dark hours and know that I will find myself again.

It's always darkest before the dawn isn't it?

Stop.

In happens all at once.
You become a different child, a different person and I lose you.
I feel you slipping farther and farther away.
The real you, she disappears.
And what is left is a tired, angry, and former version of you.
I don't recognize who you are.
Your words are full of anger, rage, red hot rage.
Your eyes are not yours.
Your voice, your personality, it all slips away.
Your laugh comes with such authority.
You dig in, as hard as you can.
And I kneel down and wait for you.
I will wait for you.

I slip into your room, we lay down, face to face.
I start my confession.
I feel as though I am losing you, as though I have lost you and I just want you to know, that I miss you.
The tears, they start trickling down your face and mine.
The honestly just pours out of me and I always wonder if this is too much information for you to hear.
My disappointment is hurtful.
My anger is trying to cool.
And I kneel down and wait for you.
I will wait for you.

Kissing noses, you say that you love me, that you are sorry.
I tell you that I know this isn't the real you, that you are full of good and love.
You are kind and caring, you are loving.
I know that you can lead.
I know that you are the definition of love.
And I kneel down and wait for you.
I will wait for you.

I know that tough times are ahead.
Times where I will lose you all together.
Times where you will be trying to figure out who you are so your definition of self will change every day,
almost moment to moment.
I know that this is just our beginning.
That the little person I put on this earth and loved and thought I knew so well is fighting for her own identity.
And I kneel down and wait for you.
I will wait for you.

At the end of your journey,
your self discovery,
I will be here.
I will be waiting for you.

No matter who she is.
No matter your choice,
I will kneel down and wait for you.
I will wait for you.