A wave of cold jolts her from sleep. She had passed out on the couch. Again. The throbbing headache and rumbling stomach blurs her vision. She had forgotten to take her meds. Heading to the kitchen, she stumbles over her heels and falls. “God please give me a break”. As she flips the eggs over she remembers the invoice her client had requested. She urgently needs an assistant because work is overwhelming. House projects are great, she prefers to do everything by herself because of the distraction but if she’s going to be in proper business she has to lose some control and get someone else to collect the checks, pay taxes, file reports, clean and make coffee.
As she opens her computer her eyes can’t miss what’s on the desktop. It seemed like yesterday she had spent 2 days in labor bringing her baby to this world. Now there’s little to remember of those long sleepless nights, walks in the park, visits to grandma. A sob escapes her “I can’t do this. Am so worn out. I don’t know what to do”. She pops out her antidepressants and heads to his room. He’s not there, just like yesterday and the day before. He comes and goes whenever. Sometimes she finds the lock broken; she’s changed it a dozen times. Every time she thinks of moving houses it breaks her heart. That will be giving up on what she’s prayed about for years. He’s got to get well. She knows what he’s like off the drugs. Like that moment he carried her from the kitchen to the living room, took the apron and burned the chicken. He tried so hard to impress her telling her she’s the best mother in the whole world. Then there’s that night he brought healing home from youth camp. He touched her aching legs and she never remembers what that pain felt like before. Where had she gone wrong? Had she prayed enough?
She goes to their room and hubby is sleeping like a log. She knows it gets to him too but he has recently avoided the topic. He says talking consistently about it is draining. It’s hard enough that he’s paying for rehab and his son keeps throwing it down the drain. He doesn’t even know he’s not been home for the past 3 days. She doesn’t get it when he says he’s taken a break to decide what to do with him.
“Am dying every day. I want to trust you but it’s hard. I have done everything I know but it doesn’t help. Am crushed but still holding on in faith. I know your promises are true but please help me with the pain. I have prayed for wisdom but am lost from the lack of change. I have committed him to you but he seems to be getting worse by the day. Do not turn your face from us. Hold on to us lest we break. Give us peace as we wait on you to turn this around. Strengthen….”
She stops to listen again. Sure enough there’s someone at the door outside. She heads out just in case it’s him. If hubby knows he will be so mad if it’s him coming in at this hour. From the window she can see him shaking from the cold, mumbling to himself while kicking the door. She opens it and his eyes meet hers. No display of emotion as he heads to the kitchen. She can hear the sound of a broken glass, the fridge door hitting the wall and food tins forced open. She knows if she gets closer it will agitate him but she does it any way. “We love you so much and God does too” she whispers to him over a kiss, goes back to her room wondering why she did that. Usually she breaks down every time he shows up wasted like this.
She’s holding on and decided to make it worth the while.