The Game of Life - A true Story
The Game of Life - A true Story
Present, n. That part of eternity dividing the domain of disappointment from the realm of hope.
(Ambrose Gwinnet Bierce)
In my typical fashion, I'm late again. I have an appointment at 9 am and I have 15 minutes left to spare. On top of that, I don't even know how to get to there, because I didn't get around to asking Google Maps yesterday. I frantically run through the house, slather on some foundation, and find myself behind the wheel, filled with anxiety and only a slight idea of where I need to go. This is starting out splendid!
My right hand is gripping the steering wheel, while my left hand is holding on to my last glimmer of hope: my phone, which has a navigation App. This will have to suffice, but the clock is ticking. I have eight minutes remaining. Since the search and programming process will take way too long, I decide to just start driving. I should roughly know the direction in which I need to go, and those street signs must be good for something...
I will find Krummhausen. I take another deep breath to relax, but it only works to a certain extent. When you exit our quaint neighborhood, you immediately find yourself on a bypass road, flanked by a breathtaking forest on the one side and wide-open fields on the other. Unfortunately, my current state of mind will not allow me to appreciate the beauty. When I think about it, I can't recall a recent moment in which I was able to appreciate the beauty that surrounds me. My life is covered with a grey, unforgiving veil through which I see the world, and which matches the way I feel on the inside. The color, smell and taste of joy and happiness had been hiding from me for a long time now and I had given up the search for them.
I'm driving and driving, passing exits one after the other and am finally on the way to Dürrbach. This much I can still remember, just keep following this road.
Why out of all days does a tractor have to be right in front of me?
I only have 5 minutes until my appointments and I'm crawling along the country road without the slightest chance of passing this huge inconvenience in front of me.
Of course, I get more and more nervous because of this situation. My breathing is getting faster, and I am starting to feel dizzy. I pass Rothberg, and still no sign of Krummhausen. The exit should come any minute. Finally, I arrive in Kastenholz. I'm totally lost.
Two minutes until nine. This is hopeless. I pull over to the side of a field and with shaking hands, I dial my husband's number. As soon as I hear his voice, I breakdown completely. I scream at him for leaving me alone on such an important day and because he never hast time for me. All my worries come crashing over me and I ask myself again, not for the first time, what I am even good for anymore.
Nothing comes easy to me. Sundays I'm scared about Monday. When my husband goes to work in the morning, I feel lonely. I ask myself if I am going to make it. He leaves early in the morning. Whenever he gets up, I get up with him. Throughout the day, it appears that I am living a normal life. I barely make it out of bed in the mornings to care for the kids, bring them to school and to do the housework. I can also go grocery shopping alone, make it to Doctor's appointments and can care for my children.
Throughout the day I am distracted by my chores, and errands and I am mobile. Apart from my fatigue, it appears that I am doing well, and I can conquer my daily tasks, with a few exceptions. Pain in my neck and headaches have become a steady companion throughout my days. My tolerance for pain medicine has risen but other than that I seem to have my life under control.
It's a different story at night. The duties of the day slow down, but instead of relaxing my mind focuses on me and I am no longer in control of my senses. To get an i