“This life is chronic.” That’s what the lady said to me during a class I was taking. She had been a counselor and worked with different-brained children in her previous life and someone introduced us, of course. As we’re talking she says, “This life is chronic.” She didn’t say it twice; I’m just repeating the first sentence again. I didn’t know the actual definition of chronic in that moment, but it sure didn’t sound good to me. I smiled, because I had just met her and didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the conversation by asking what “chronic” meant, and we carried on. I don’t remember much of the conversation, except for that one sentence.
So I looked up the definition online at dictionary.com. Here’s what it says:
chron·ic – adjective
1.constant; habitual; inveterate: a chronic liar.
2.continuing a long time or recurring frequently: a chronic state of civil war.
3.having long had a disease, habit, weakness, or the like: a chronic invalid.
4.(of a disease) having long duration (opposed to acute).
Well, that’s not what I want. I want to walk into a doctor’s office and get this fixed. I sure don’t want to deal with moments like tonight all the time. I don’t want my other son to have to deal with moments like tonight. I don’t want my boyfriend and his daughter to have to deal with moments like tonight. And yet, moments like tonight happen on nights like tonight. Nights that start out beautiful and joyful. I remember the laughter and running around, a little bit.
I will not share about tonight, tonight. I am tired and I would curse a lot and I’m finding that people don’t love curse words. I do, but others don’t, and I still need to curse. It involved three beautiful children and a game named “Tag.” My different-brained son doesn’t play tag, so then why was he in the game? Alert! It went downhill very fast. Several hours later I am here writing this blog post because I need to share. Thank you.
Right now, before I go to bed, I am in need of space and quiet and solitude. I don’t know how long I’ll stay awake. I’m very tired. And I want to sleep, but for my own sanity and mental health, I need to “sit and stare” for a bit longer.
“This life is chronic,” a blogger said to you one night.