Story by Suka Nasrallah
67 times. He called for me 67 times while I was in the shower. Mind you I started counting half way in, as a way to keep myself calm and not scream back, so surely it was more than 67 times.
But for the sake of transparency, 67 times.
67 times I listened to him yell ‘mama’ and bang on the bathroom door. While I stood under the hot water drowning in my tears because I couldn’t bear the sound of his voice anymore and I had no will to reply.
I had no will to keep a conversation going while I was in the shower. I had no will to keep a conversation when I desperately needed a few minutes to myself.
Because the coffee just didn’t do it and it was barely 9 am. Because they had been up since 6:45 that morning shouting demands at me.
All I wanted was 10 minutes to myself, but clearly that was too much to ask.
67 times.
Mama
Mama
Mama
Mama
Mama
67 times that word rang in my ears.
This is why mothers are so touched out. This is why we stay awake so late knowing we’re going to regret it in the morning.
This is why we we are always quick to snap. This is why we are so sensitive.
Because we are desensitized. We are numb. We are so beyond worn out. Burnt out. Drained. Struggling. Misunderstood.
Being needed all the time is simply draining, and a mother never stops being needed. We have no visible finish line.
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