The Truth

The Truth: Life is a giant pile of shit. Life is hard and messy and so damn complicated I feel like throwing up most days. Life is survival. We like to pretend we are separate from the rest of nature but our lives are simple. We fight every day for our right to breath and exist on this planet. Sometimes we get eaten, sometimes just maimed, and sometimes we escape death. Mostly life sucks.

So why, oh why, do we do it? Why do we wake up everyday and go to work, or clean the house, or try to teach our children that the world is a magical place? Because despite all of the hardships life is wondrous too. The will to survive, thrive, and ultimately procreate is so strong that we are able to overlook most of the horrible things that surround us and drown in moments of pure joy. We take pause to witness the look on our children's faces when they learn something new about the world and all of the misery and pain fades.

That is why I move in the morning. That is what keeps me going. Because most moments all I want to do is die. Most moments I hate my life so much that I want to carve into my own skin to break out of the panic I feel. Most moments I have to fight for every breath. But the moments that are brilliant shine so brightly that the scary thoughts are pushed aside. I lock them in a tiny box that sits somewhere between my throat and stomach and tell them to back the Hell off. And I try to dwell on the good. I look in my daughter's eyes and know that all of the pain is worth something.

She deserves so much better than I can give. But I will keep trying. Even if it destroys me and even if it's not enough. Because I am a mother.