Woke Up Blank – C. Matthews

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He woke up on a usual day. Woke up confused with bad thoughts from the night before, rolled over from the previous night and the night before that and on and on since whenever; it doesn’t matter anymore. He can’t explain it. Doesn’t have the tools or the will to figure it out (therapy is for the well-to-dos with decent insurance. Full of shit). But sometimes, in times of extreme mania and/or intoxication, he makes a break. But he never remembers it, or repeats it so many times it loses it’s aurora of progress. It neither solves or changes anything. Or he ‘reboots’ his brain, blanking out for a while and creating the illusion of renewal. Nonetheless, he’s up and free from those heavy thoughts for a moment, just a moment. Idle time will beckon them later.

But first…get dressed, or brush teeth? “What about my face? What about food? Wallet? Wallet first then teeth? Which is more important?” twenty-something years living and he still can’t figure this shit out. He knows other people struggle, but it doesn’t make it feel better. “At least they have lives after they dress,” he spits. For him it’s a struggle for nothing. Like a struggle for more problems, racking them up like interest on a payday loan. There’s nothing in the day worth doing, and it’ll probably get worse. It’s already been projected for the week.

“But anything could happen,” the countless self help articles say. He could do a complete 180 any moment now. “It’s never permanent,” they say. But that ten minute yelling match with a debt collector two weeks ago sealed his fate. It will be bad for a while. It’s never been good, just a persistent low level “shit” for one reason or another.

So is it/was it so bad to begin with

What!?! Now he’s angry. Promised himself he wouldn’t do this first thing in the morning. But it’s always been like this, and the only thing that hurts is the idea that he could feel another way, that it could be different. He could deal with the shit but not with that small idea of escape within eye view. Just more problems on top of previous problems with two resolutions in sight, pulling you away farther.

“It will get worse and that’s a natural guarantee.” Maybe not getting up will clear up the clog. “You’re a walking, talking, shitting problem. Take a break and die for everyone’s sake,” he briefly thinks on his way out the door, teeth un-brushed.

 

Chris took advantage of our free program for emerging authors. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Share Your Story

 

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