By Donna Niemeyer
It was deja vu in the quiet moments of darkness, before dawn. I stared up at the ceiling from bed and watched the light from a silent TV flickering across it. I searched for the reasons of waking, to such a sadness and insignificance that felt overwhelming again and so heavy on my chest. There was a bombardment that ensued. Reality shifted into my consciousness, pausing the autopilot I’ve learned to live with.
I realized today that the more weary or tired I get, the less pondering I do, and the more complicity emerges. Life shifted into an autopilot mode, silently and without even missing a gear. I never questioned why I had been living in that mode; it just became the routine I follow. It just was. It just IS.
There are many, many times that I’ve been grateful that I’m there. Sometimes, reality is too much to bear all at once and/or sometimes even a little.
I have to admit the tiredness and the weariness to myself, because it just keeps reappearing and screaming at me to sit up & take notice. I have learned the real meaning when people speak of their being “tired.” I have learned the real meaning when people speak of their being “weary.” It seems that only those that have crossed into that world could even catch the inflection when we hear those words.
Both have different meanings when you ponder them, and one can experience them both simultaneously. When one tries to put this into words, it’s just a deep, heart-wrenching sound that only God and one’s own heart knows what it says.
It dawned on me that I’ve stopped writing my journals, stopped expressing myself like I used to do, stopped adding to my blog page – just stopped. Who would I rush home to tell anyways? And what difference does it make in the big scheme of things? The disconnect is a real thing, aided by life’s traumas, busy-ness, time, distance, and its realities. We all experience those.
The past 4 years since my diagnosis have made me become very “single minded,” which means trying to get through a day. This girl, who was able to cheerlead herself daily with, “Suck it up, Buttercup!,” “Get those big girl panties on!,” or, “There’s a bridge downtown you’ll either live under or dive off the top of it,” has worn the fight or power of those words to dullness.
I looked around me as I was driving into work today, and it felt like I was blinking and feeling consciousness and experiencing being in the “now” moment. Autopilot was still paused. The sun was peeking over and reflecting off the Arkansas River; it was a cool 50° and quiet – the kind of stillness before the city wakes up. I reminded myself to be grateful that I have a job and to continually reaffirm those reasons I used to love what I do. To ask for clarity of mind, to do my job efficiently, strength of body to make it thru another day, motivation to continue good work ethics, determination to continue the fight to remain viable and standing, and to be thankful for another ten spoons to help me make it through the day until I make it home.
That’s when autopilot kicked back in.