Do I need another cup of coffee?

Or, do I just continue to stare at my wall of inadequacy?

I am unable to move.

Physically I suppose I could move.

Emotionally, I am trapped.

To the right are piles of clothes the children did not pick up.

I watch them step out of clothes and leave them.  

Step out of shoes and leave them.

I have not the energy or the strength to say, “pick them up.”

Thinking about it causes the despair to creep back in.  

So I refuse to think.

I blindly pick them up and put them in another pile.

To the left are piles of papers I did not have the energy to read.

I watch it pile up and up and I leave it.  

“Someday” I will handle it.  “Someday” never comes.

I have not the energy or the strength to handle the daily barrage of papers in my world.

Thinking about it causes the despair to creep back in.  

So I refuse to think.

I blindly pick up the days mail and put it in another pile.

In front of me is a kitchen piled with dirty dishes.  

Everyone ate.  No one moved a thing.

I watch it pile up for days at a time.

Sometimes three days, or four days, before I can drag in there and wash them.

Sometimes the food molds on the plates, and the stench makes me want to vomit.

I have not the energy or the strength to clean my house.  

I am unable to move.

Thinking about it causes the despair to creep back in.  

So I refuse to think.

I blindly stumble into the kitchen, and get another cup of coffee.

I don’t feel depressed every day.

Some days I laugh … or I sing

Some days I create beautiful things, and I notice a flower… or a child… or a breeze.

But those days are too few, because my world is too painful.

Thinking about it causes the despair to creep back in.  

So I refuse to think.

I blindly shut out my thoughts.  

I close off my feelings.

And I stare at my wall of inadequacy. 

Marsha Sims

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