What a day! By that I mean what a dang disappointing day. The only birthday wishes I received were from my therapist and an e-mail from Google. I went to work feeling giddy like a six-year old who had been given candy. I gave today's clients the best training sessions I have ever provided in all my 10 years of owning the gym. I walked home today because I had all the extra energy to spare. Who am I kidding, I just cannot afford taxis anymore neither can I afford to buy fuel to put in my husband's 2006 Toyota Passo.
It has has been gathering dust under the shed at the front of the house in any case. Nevertheless, I enjoyed every second of my hour long walk home. I noticed things and people I would never have noticed had I been in a car like:
Rain water being splashed onto pavements by fast moving cars and the beauty of the the sunlight hitting the droplets and creating micro-rainbows. The nostalgia I got from seeing a number of young couples walk hand in hand on the streets and being all lovey dovey till I couldn't see them anymore. The shock I received from seeing young mothers throw their children's diapers under a bridge where some homeless people sleep. So many things I never would've paid heed to, well I'm glad I did today.
I eventually got back home expecting Clara to be eagerly awaiting my arrival, but as usual, she was locked in her room. I made myself a nice cup of camomile tea and binge watched my favourite series, all by myself. Later on, I ate one of those frozen pizzas I had in my freezer, that was pretty much the only thing in my freezer at this point.
Now I'm in my room writing about my feelings in a book again, wondering if my little girl really just forgot or ignored my 40th birthday.
I am so frustrated, at myself for letting things with Clara even get to this point and with my life in general.
It's as if I could punch a hole through my bedroom wall to let it all out. I can't do that though, that'd cause quite the dent in my wallet. What do I do with all these negative emotions now? I will just ask Mrs King tomorrow at our therapy session, at least that way I'll also get to speak with Clara. The therapy sessions are the only place I get to speak to her these days, well now she pretty much just says a few sentences which make no sense to me, at Mrs King's insistence. The big 40 came with a big shock, that I'm losing my daughter slowly but surely. How and when did we even get here?
YOU ARE READING
Cynthia
Short StoryA short story about a single, financially struggling woman who has to take care of herself and her troublesome daughter on her own. Despite all this, she makes it a priority to take care of her mental health.
