Why I Get Up (May 21, 2019)

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Every day I get out of bed, but everyday is not easy. There are many times where I would rather lay on my back, looking up at my blank white ceiling, than swing my legs over my bed and put my feet on the floor. Days when the empty, yet all-consuming feelings overpower everything else. When I just want to avoid life and never get up again because that is easier than faking it through one more day.
Some days are easier than others and I don’t lay there lifeless for twenty minutes contemplating if everything is worth it. Some days I jump up with all the joy in the world and everything is great. But, when those days don’t come, there is one thing that gets me out of bed: involuntary determination.  
I say involuntary because many days I would much rather give up and let the hurt consume me. But, in spite of myself and the depressive thoughts, I get up. I get up because I am too stubborn to let my weaknesses win – too stubborn to lose to the parts of me that I hate. Something inside of me forces me to get up despite the pressure of life telling me to stay down. Maybe that isn’t the best reason to get up, but I’d be lying if I said it was something like family or my bladder – although some days something similar gets me up; but, if I’m lucky, it doesn’t keep me up.
I love my life, and most days that I get up I am happy that I did, but not all days. The days where the physical pain and aches devour me. Or when my brain and my past decide to choke me until I can’t breathe. Those are the days I am not happy I got up. Those are the days when I don’t want to fake it anymore; when I don’t want to be anymore.
But, I got up, and I got through. And I am thankful for everyday I have the option to get up. Because despite the pain, the hurt, and the emptiness, I am here. I might not always want to be, but I am thankful that I have the choice to be. And I am thankful for the involuntary determination that continues to choose life, even when I don’t want to.

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