A Moment of Self Pity

The day outside seemed perfect. Small,fluffy white clouds travelled lazily across a blue sky, and the sun was reflecting off the snow covering the backyard. A blue jay skipped across the top of the fence toward the feeder, and it was still too early for neighbours to be leaving for church, so the everything was still quiet. Allison felt that the scene seemed so false, like a painting hung over a hole in the wall, calm and serene when the inside of her mind was like a black pool of turmoil. Anger overwhelmed her, and she yanked the blinds down to block it all out.

She walked back to the table where her cell phone was laying and sat down, opening it to dial her voicemail for what seemed like the fiftieth time this weekend. This time was different though; she got out a pen and wrote down the name and phone number of the clinic, and the times of the two appointments they had given her. The first was only two days from now. She thought to herself with grim humour, at least my situation is so desperate I don't have to wait long.

She'd book a rideshare to get there; options for getting help from friends and family were limited. I don't have any friends, Allison chuckled to herself, and all of her family would be at work. No point in bothering them this late in the game, she thought. She got up to get another coffee and decided to skip her regular workout, because why did that matter at this point? Her body would be destroyed over the next few months anyways, and if she made it out the other side she'd have more to worry about than how much weight she could lift.

Coffee in hand, she went into the living room to sit in her favourite chair. Her and that chair had a long history together. It was her dad's originally, and she had dragged it home when her mother had decided it no longer matched the new decor. It was one of the only stable things in her life, she ruminated. She settled down in it and dragged a blanket across her.

Tears started to stream down her face and she thought why? Why is this always the way things are in my life? Why is it always moving from one struggle to the next? Suddenly, anything and everything she thought was unfair came crashing down on her. Work, marriage, buying a house, having a family...none of it had turned out for her. None of the dreams she had as a child had ever come true. had it all gone wrong?  Probably all becuase of my own poor judgement, she thought, and she let her mind drift off as she lay back in the chair.

I did all of the things I thought I was told too, Allison supposed, and none of the things that I wanted. She'd been an introverted, shy child, terrifed of people and places that weren't familiar. Taught to believe that you were meant to grow up, go to university, get spit out into the work world, get married, and have kids. No variations from this plan were ever entertained or suggested as options.

Allison had drifted aimlessly through university, with no solid plan on what to do after that. According to the plan, she was supposed to get married, and with no consideration for what else she could be doing, she determinedly set out to find a husband. The main problem with this part of the plan, of course, was that Allsion was still an introvert; having few friends, meeting Mr. Right became a problem. The infrequent dates she went on were disasters. In the end, she settled on someone who at least agreed to see her again, and tried to make it work. True love is a fiction, she told herself at the time, something that women idealize and fabricate into existence, and congratulated herself on being too smart to fall into that trap.

Not long after her first child was born she undertood the huge mistake she made. Still, she thought to herself, people can learn to love each over time and be happy, and so she stayed. Allison stayed through a great many years, giving all she had while getting nothing in return. She smiled through it all and told herself this is what people did. Eventually, even though her husband was frequently unemployed, she managed to scrape together a small deposit for a home, and that part of the plan was complete. Things will get better if we have our own home, she told herself, we'll be more like a real family, we'll seem successful like everyone else.

All lies, Allison reflected. No happily ever after, no white picket fence, no waving the kids off to their first day of university from the front porch. No growing old together and going on cruises. She had stayed until it was unbearable, the selfishness sucking every ounce of energy she had, until one day she simply announced she was leaving. Her husband did everything possible to make sure she suffered for her decision, and she lost everything that she had worked so hard for. Losing the house was by far the worst part, because it felt like a nail being hammered into a coffin that contained all of her dreams.

Starting over in middle age was a difficult thing to do, she discovered. The idea of owning another home ever again was laughable, and so Allison moved into the small two bedroom flat she was currently in. It was nice enough, but it wasn't part of the plan she had set out for herself all those years ago, so it felt dissatisfying. In fact, Allison felt like she was completely adrift and unsure of how to live her life now that the plan could not proceed. She wondered what other people in her situation did, if they were struggling as much as she was, or if they were somehow magically living their best lives on a new and improved life plan. Should she go travelling? Join a dating app? Buy herself a shiny new car? What, exactly, do divorced people do other than numbly grind through their daily routines?

None of it mattered now, she reminded herself. Any plans she may have had for her life, divorced or not, had come to a screeching halt, and there may be no opportunity to make new ones. Her diagnosis had felt like another unfair hurdle that she had in her path that other people didn't, and she wondered why the universe was sending her so many obstacles. Not only did she not get the life she had planned, but soon enough she may not have life at all, so what was the point in coming up with a new plan? All of it for nothing, Allison thought, all of those struggles for nothing but complete failure in life. At this point she felt as if failure was always meant for her; success and happiness were like locked to doors, and she had never been able to find where the keys were hidden.

I could just surrender and let it take me, Allison considered. Who would really miss me anyways? The idea of all of the struggling having a finite end at last suddenly seemed appealing. No more thinking about money, what other people thought of her, what she looked like, no more endless worrying about the plan. Her soul felt lighter just at the idea of it. She realized that in fact she may not get to choose; her illness may take her whether she surrendered or not. And what will I do, she asked herself, if I do make it out the other side? What if I fail at trying to die, as well? Tears streamed down her face as she thought about the impossible, frustrating loop she was stuck in.  

Her coffee was cold now, and she peered into the cup with a sigh. She peeled the blanket back so she could get up to get a fresh cup, and on her way back to the kitchen she picked up a kleenex to dab her tears away and wipe her eyes dry. Allison dumped the cold coffee into the sink, and opened the fridge to get more cream. The new cup of coffee was steaming when she poured it, and as she swirled the cream with a spoon it made a satisfying pattern in her mug. Leaning against the counter, she took a sip and let the warmth sink down into her. She turned back to the window and opened the curtains back up, and let the sun war her up for a few moments. With a sigh, Allison finished her coffe and left the kitchen to get ready to go to the gym.