Sometimes I see Christmas in it’s hues: the scent of berries and warm red wine, of spices from mystical places that soothe the soul on long dark nights. Sometimes I see happiness: the red shoes of partying and reckless abandon; the bright primary colours of the plastic pantechnicon that was once our sitting room and is now play-room of small, bright, happy souls that giggle and gurgle and brighten my days. I see warmth and comfort and colour in the kitchen accessories. I see my husband, who puts Ketchup on everything, which I now love as a quirk rather than an affront to my cooking skills. I taste long days and short nights and sunshine in every sweet juicy strawberry, every home-grown tomato.
But I feel anger. I feel frustration. I feel tired.
The weariness I feel takes away the joy of the warm winter wine and long summer nights. The bones which ache with every trip up and down the stairs dull the primary colours and take away the giggles. The eyes which see the happiness in little faces, the love in a husband’s eyes, see instead a different red.
The panic button, pushed, flashes it’s red light across the room, creating confusion and tension and anger. There is shouting. There are tears. A mother weeps as she comforts her crying child in the half-light of the red room.
As the crying slows and the colours are restored, I see the hands of the mother stroke her precious baby. I feel it. The stroking soothes the tears,the red flashing lights cease but the anger remains still. Anger and frustration not at the actions that preceded the shouting, but that there was shouting at all. The tears not sadness for my crying baby but shame for shouting. Anger that I saw red. Frustration that lack of sleep coloured every action with it.
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This post was written for this week’s Writing Workshop. I chose prompt 4: Red.
It's so lovely when you read something written by another blogger that puts your own feelings into words so well.
As mum of a currently ill (just a cold but she doesn't understand that) five month old I can strongly relate to this!
This feeling is something I can relate to! Thanks so much for sharing this post, I loved it. I hope you do manage to have a restful Christmas.xx
Beautifully written and I have felt that way at times. It's not easy and it's darn frustrating. Life can't always be a happy bubble – but I know I often think it should be and want it to be! I'm not good on myself when I lose my temper or lose control of my emotions – I feel like a failure and so guilty.
I hope the moment you have written about was a blip and you feel restored soon and have an enjoyable festive season (easy for me to say as it's summer here in NZ!).
Best wishes, visiting from the Writer's Workshop.
I can understand these feels, but as the boys have got older, I am much more relaxed about Christmas, all that is imporatant is familt, spending time together and loving each other. Oh adn wstching the boys eyes light up first thing when they see their toys!
I'm never sure what to comment, but thanks for sharing this. I have felt like this many times 🙁 xx