Backslider

I wake up feeling hopelessly depressed and discouraged. The feelings are impossible to shake off and it takes every bit of energy and will for me to leave the bed. Even the two small, anxious faces of the dogs don’t motivate me. We are headed toward a country and a world I don’t want to live in and if it weren’t for my animals, I think I’d have checked out already. I know this is toxic thinking, I tell myself it will pass because everything does, but I’m worn out and weary and ready to quit. The thought occurs to me: Damn the consequences, it won’t be my problem. But there are those two small faces and those eyes. Not to mention the four felines that share my life. Even if I was committed and had the courage and was dead serious, the exit is blocked. So I get up, pull on yesterday’s clothes and make up my mind to start again. Waiting on the dogs to finish their breakfast and deliberately turning off the news, I begin to scribble on the back of an envelope things to be grateful for. I’m still above ground, have a roof that doesn’t leak, six healthy and well fed animals, a car that runs, unemployment benefits, a job I will eventually return to, a select few friends, a cupboard full of food, and a few thousand in the bank, just in case. I remind myself that there are people who would kill for a quarter of what I have and while It doesn’t completely eliminate the darkness, it is enough for me to pull myself together for another day.

When you find yourself drowning in negativity, searching for the good becomes a full time occupation. It takes energy and faith and practice. In the words of the Greg Brown song,

I’m a poor backslider,

in a pit of sin.

I try to crawl out,

and fall back in.

Just for today, I tell myself, I’ll hold on and wait to see what’s around the next corner.