underneath....

When you look at people you see what they want you to see.  You see a somewhat put together human being with not enough sleep and not enough hours in the day and not enough help, but making it, getting by, because its what we do. When you look in the mirror. you see what you want to see. You tell yourself... no, no, you don't. Because its not even there. You don't have to tell yourself ts ok, because its just... there. That gut instinct. YOU ARE OK.  There is no "telling yourself" because that would be some sort of inward acknowledgement that things aren't really okay. And they have to be. Not in that, I refuse to accept the possibility of failure kind of way, but in a way that means if  they aren't JUST okay, then the world would crash to a halt. That speechless, Oh My God, what has happened here, what do I DO? Paralyzing fear... that ok, right this minute that number is ok... but what about the next one and the next one and the NEXT one, when shes asleep and your exhausted and sleep thru an alarm and Oh my GOD, what if you sleep through the whole night and wake up and she's dead.  Thats not there. It cant be, stuff it down inside. DEEP down inside, behind the brick wall in the back of that closet that you hide everything in. Because you ARE OK. Your CHILD is FINE. There is nothing to see here... nobody is broken. that stupid pancreas, we have GOT THIS. We don't need you... until it starts to happen to someone else. And somehow THAT person punched an teeny tiny little hole in the brick wall in the back of the closet full of hidden shit. And all the signs are there and all the symptoms are there and you start bawling because dammit, WHY does someone else have to go through this. And you can cry, you can cry for this other person because she isn't YOU and he isnt your child and you dont have to be FINE for them, because they live 900 miles away. You dont have to hold it together for them.  Your heart can break for them, because you dont have to look them in the face at 3am and make sure they are breathing.  Thats their Grand Canyon. You are only seeing it in pictures.... its not so huge, so massive, so terrifyingly deep in pictures. But you dont have a Grand Canyon... you are FINE. Not your kid, she is FINE.  We are OK. Nevermind that nagging feeling in your gut, the choked back sob that is always there, because you are imagining that. When you read about that new kid who was just diagnosed. It didnt bring a thing back.... that little bump, it was a speedbump, not Mount Everest calling. Nothing hidden in that closet behind that brick wall.  Move along. Stop fumbling with the lock on that door, you are too tired, too exhausted after 6 months of not sleeping, not breathing not looking in the mirror, because Mt Everest might just be too big to stuff behind the brick wall. And God knows you are too damn tired to shove everything back in if you open the door. Nothing is wrong, YOU ARE OK.... wait, did you just say that?