I’m meant to be packing and I am meant to be cleaning and making sense of things – order. I am meant to be organised and efficient with my time. I am meant to be accountable and in control.
I am not however, in control. I am not organised, I am probably at the other end of efficient. I don’t think being an adult equals these things, I’m pretty sure being an adult means that you are further from these things than you ever have been.
By you, I mean me.
I don’t know about you.
I’ve taken to listening to Florence and The Machine at deafening levels. When I get stuck and panicked – I put her on and my head becomes all harp rolls and big voices.
Of course when I am stuck between packing and work and looking after a small child – this isn’t always a valid option. So I often day dream about just being able to listen to music. How different my life is from just six years ago.
Last night, the music and the bad television didn’t help enough and it all became too much. I left, I sat on the steps of a dark and empty church and thought about crying. I don’t think I did though. I often just head to these places of faith when I don’t know what else to do. I don’t have any faith though. It’s more about a place to just be and be able to think, reflect – take time out for a breather. Be strong enough to go back home.
I can’t tell if I’m on that brink again – the one I was on for so long back in Berlin. I think of a tiger walking back and forth in her cage at the Royal Melbourne Zoo – slinking one way and then the other just waiting to see if something will happen. If something will give. I’m trapped but I’m uncertain what has got me here and don’t know how to get away – pacing.
Being like that isn’t an option – but it never was a choice.
When I am home and child is asleep, I curl up next to her on her bed. I hold her and breathe her in – she always smells like she’s been eating cotton candy though I am pretty sure she’s never had any in her short life. Then I cry. I am sorry that I’m not doing a good job, I am sorry that I have breaking points. I am meant to be the adult – and that is meant to mean things. I am meant to be the reliable one.
I think I need my drawing table back now please.