how to describe? I am not sure i can. as i sat on the steps of the caravan...feet in pouring rain, probably a glass of wine in my hand, a cigarette in the other... thinking how it could all be so nice .... still seeing the other me who walks stridently and healthily and happily along with happy healthy children and happy healthy man beside...who laughs and talks, is focused and successful and in control. not sitting here clutching various props to keep herself up...not struggling to tolerate the incessant needs of children and permanent activity or else! not seeking to pacify a grumpy partner who finds children noise difficult to cope with. this me, the real me cannot believe that a long weekend away from home could be so unrestful. well i suppose with the TV not working, budget meals and the pouring rain it is quite believable it could be so difficult.
i try one evening to escape. a chilled bottle of wine, a glass, a note pad.... i take the baby in his pushchair on the first calm evening to the beach where the sun starts it's setting process- filling the stony expanse of beach...estuary bed with dazzling last light and reflecting in the puddles of the river left behind.
the children see me go and follow me.. . theri playing can wait... i am please they come they can get some nature. I call my man and ask him to join us, I cannot face the three of them alone. the hope of clarity and peace fades but who knows perhaps another kind of contentment can take it's place.
he appears as i struggle with my now wide awake one year old on the pebbles, helping him to walk on the hilly stones. the other two run off on the expanse of stones and watch a small child screeching as her grandma extricates her from a muddy bit. they leave the beach with the child's wailing going on and on.
i suppose rather prematurely, I pour myself a glass of wine. the kids play in the dying sun. this could be nice. seconds later...'i am stuck in mud'... shouts my daughter with deep pleasure in her voice- she is a mud lark. but not now, i think. my partner angrily goes to wrench her out leaving her boots behind. covered in mud he storms back to the caravan. i tip away my wine and follow. defeated. and then a i sit on the caravan steps and watch the silently wailing blue gray sky with dying strings of yellow yolky sunlight free itself up to the horizon and i wonder how often in a life can a person feel so utterly powerless against the tide of life, of circumstance...of place.
home again. i am once again struck with the tedium of the day. the anxiety in my chest will not abate.
there seems to be no respite in this version of my life i wonder how the other me is getting on?
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