Those Waking Moments

Do you know that moment after you went to lay down in bed and steer your mind to fantasise about the things you want most—when thoughts meander off completely and aimlessly and you suddenly, but very thinly threaded, realise on that last waking moment that you are at peace and things will turn out just fine? Why do we experience it when it feels like nothing will ever be perfect during all the other times of a day? Is it because maybe it eventually will, but we simply do not know yet? And, is that because we need to go through suffering, pain and misery before we can appreciate true happiness?

You fall asleep—even if it is only for a few hours, after which you start tossing and turning. You dwell gloomily and are fed up with yourself for not being able to let go, resulting in insomnia. And just before you are meant to get up and start the day, you slip into the most vivid dream of the night. But are you really sleeping? Or are you once again in that waking moment, which now seems to last much longer and does not give you any peace at all. You find it hard to see the difference between what has been your unconsciousness self through dreams and what have been figments of your conscious imagination.

I get up, have a healthy breakfast and smiling broadly, think: ‘Today is going to be a new start and so much different from the other days.’ I am already contemplating exercising routines and drinking and eating healthy. I am thinking about spending my time doing something productive and as a reward feeling like I accomplished something at the end of the day. But my husband did not even leave the street for work and it becomes very evident that things will just be thought about and not be done. I find comfort in sweets and soft drinks, I sit down all day watching the computer or television screen and sometimes burst out crying. Then I pick myself up and do a chore to convince everyone but me that the day was not completely useless. I throw myself into the couch and think: ‘It’s alright. Today I can wallow. Tomorrow is the new start.’

In the evening I go to bed and I try to manipulate my thoughts to envision better times. I try to talk some sense into myself, ask myself to please try harder. I think about making a difference, I think about our future children. And my busy mind wanders off to things I do not remember the next day, but just before I drift off to crazy dreams that would probably make some people very rich one day, it seeps in: ‘Everything will be alright.’

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