I never look forward to Mondays, or Sunday nights for that matter. Not because it’s the start of the new week. Or for the fact that Michelle and the girls will be at work and school during the day, leaving me at home alone.
But because late Sunday night I go through withdrawals, as I come off the narcotic drug which I have needed to be on for the weekend or sometimes just for Sunday. A drug, just so that I can bear the increased pain of sitting, standing and walking as a result of going to church, the wanting to be social and trying to have a ‘normal’ life/weekend like everyone else.
But, I hate Mondays mostly because the withdrawals last most of the day. The headaches, the tingling, the sweating, being irritable, amongst others. If I have overdone things a bit on the weekend, then Mondays I suffer greatly because of the increased pain levels.
Mondays are also full of frustrations. Reading on Facebook what others have done on the weekend, listening to friends talk about they activities and plans, knowing that at times I am the reason why as a family we can’t do things like other family’s do. Frustrated also because, (and for reasons that I do totally understand) I don’t get invited out to do things with some of my friends. But I try not to dwell on these things because then I feel depressed and this is not a place where I want to be.
On the positive side, I’m alive and I can do some things. But, I still hate Mondays!