My Little Balcony

I am terrified of heights.  I wasn't when I was younger but since having Summer I have developed many fears, some even irrational.  Many, if not all women go through postpartum and I thought this was largely due to that.  It's been 4 years though and I'm still finding it incredibly hard to step out of my balcony to hang the laundry or look out the window while the airplane takes off.  I don't think it's a crippling fear but it's got me a little more cautious than normal where my daughter is concerned.  

The weather in Dubai has changed and for the last few days I started opening the balcony door to let the nice cool breeze in.  I did the same this afternoon when I saw the setting sun and the gorgeous backdrop it gave the vast wilderness.  I stepped out, felt the wind on my face and just took it all in.  And for a brief moment there, I was oblivious to my fear.  In fact, all the anxious thoughts and worries from yesterday and the days before seemed to fade away as I took the time to just be present.  

My pleasant reverie was interrupted shortly when I heard Summer's tiny voice behind me, hesitant but hopeful that I'd let her come out and join me in her most forbidden area of the flat.  I smiled and slowly took her to sit on my lap as I continued to appreciate the afternoon that it was.  

Eleven Years Later

How do you get out of a rut? Can someone please tell me? How does anybody snap out of a mental conditioning where you believe you're miserable despite being surrounded with so much apparent goodness? You have a good job, a roof over your head, a little sunshine girl - everything seems to be in place and hardly anything to really complain about. But why the internal struggle? Why is there a creeping desolation? 

I guess because when you're in a rut, you just are. There's no hearing you out, no motivational talk, no change of environment that can get you out of it. You're just there, stuck. 

Do you wait this out? Should you hold on tight until the storm passes and you can finally climb out of the dark pit? Can you wish that it hasn't left you indelible marks yet somehow know it's impossible to go through the emotional beating unscathed? So what do you f*cking do? 

Silence. 

Does anybody ever really figure out what to do? Tomorrow when you wake up, you would hope to be free. But if that doesn't happen you continue getting up and go through the motions of life because clearly, there is no other choice.