In the light of the full moon

 I sit in the stillness, listening to the hum of an air conditioning unit, as sprinklers cry over the lawn. My own sprinklers have activated and the water rolls down my cheeks, glistening in the light of the full moon. I breathe a shaky breath as the adrenaline that has been pumping through my body all day begins to dissipate. The breeze is gentle on my face, cooling the warm tears that continue to spill over my lashes. I know it won't ever get easier, but I send up a prayer as I sit on the ground under the light of the full moon. 

The pressures of the day weigh heavily on my chest. One, two, three...I count, trying to quiet my mind, as my thoughts are battling with each other. The symphony of crickets is deafening, no longer a welcoming to the late hours of the night, but more of a piercing intrusion into those thoughts. As the light of the full moon shines brightly through a passing cloud, I question when, if ever, I'll move past survival mode. I'm weary. I'm spent. Each day I try again, fighting silent battles many are not aware of. 

Nothing feels right anymore. My successes are shadowed by my fears. The stresses of my everyday are like weights that I must pull along with me. My children's mental health and wellbeing are my top priority, but how can I feel secure in leaving them to go to work when I know their battles are misunderstood and met with suppression? As the full moon wanes through its phases, I remind myself that we all have cycles. I breathe into that knowledge, trying to find acceptance in the difficulties that come. 

The hum of the air conditioner quiets. The sprinklers have completed their task. The gentle breeze has stilled. And as I sit under the bright light of this full moon, the echoing of crickets remind me that when everything else stops, I, like them, will continue.