Drowning in What Ifs
Christmas lights in March. Amy let the vivid multicolored LEDs burn the retinas of her empty stare. The sting of brightness was a fraction of the pain she deserved after the events of today. She hated herself. Staring outside was the only solace from the reminders of her inadequacies.
Motion in the neighbor’s yard distracted from her self-loathing. Her eyes darted to the distraction, eventually followed by her head. Just a couple deer, wandering through. Their hides were dark, blending in with the dimming landscape of dusk.
Who leaves their Christmas lights up until March?! I can’t even do those properly. It would take like 5 minutes. Why are they still up?
She turned to look at the blank Word document on her laptop.
What is wrong with me?!
She was trying to write something, anything, but the words wouldn’t flow. She had never struggled this hard before. It was like she was trying to tread water, but her disobeying arms only flailed about aimlessly. The weight of her emotions was pulling her under. Soon, she would be swallowed by the relentless waves of self-deprecation.
Her eyes shifted downward. She sighed. The battery was depleted.
“Mine too, buddy.” She spoke out loud to the device. Maybe I should have been using it the past 2 hours instead of letting it run dry.
She grunted as she climbed out of the comfy corner of the couch, forcing each movement.
Well, I guess I have to stand now. That’ll teach me.
Amy grabbed the charger out of her desk drawer. A Stitch Fix bag was in the way. She sighed.
Right…I was supposed to return that. Just another thing I can’t do right.
She found the charger under the bag. She heaved another sigh and shoved the drawer closed. She quickly stepped over one of the cats to avoid tripping on her way to the kitchen. After plugging the laptop in on the counter, she felt her chest start tingling. The stove. Her shoulders drooped. She dared to gaze upon it. A pit formed in her stomach at the thought of what could have been.
How could I have left the burner on? For over THREE hours?! What if one of the cats had gotten curious? Or if the flame had gone out…
Her throat tightened and a lump invaded the shrinking space. She swallowed. The lump didn’t budge. She stopped breathing. Drowning in the realization of her failures. A sickness creeped into her gut, and tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffled. And wallowed in her guilt and what ifs. The darkness of night had taken over the room, feeding her foul mood. Amy stared into the void of her spiraling emotions and let everything go blank. She floated there for a moment.
She started to write…finally.
She broke free from the current pulling her down and let her feelings fuel her words. She breathed as she poured her vulnerabilities onto the page, airing her mistakes. Sharing her innermost thoughts. Owning her insecurities. Even if nothing else went right today, at least she let herself be brave. She could be proud of one thing.
Next up, never leaving the burner on again.
