The demons of satisfaction.

hannah satisfaction The alarm goes off at 6:47am and I snooze it twice. The boys finally climb out of bed and I lay there, back aching from being joined in bed by two active sleepers all night. I don't come up the stairs until 7:55am knowing I forgot to set the coffee pot last night. My head aches from the demons that danced around at 1:00am and held onto me whispering of another panic attack.

I am in awe of the beauty that I live in as I go over to the sink filled with dirty dishes and start to scoop the coffee with a large spoon into the filter. Apples and peanut butter for one, cereal for the other. The last cup of caffeine for me, my heart has asked me to stop stimulating it out of rhythm for long enough.

I sip, they put on their uniforms and shoes. This process used to take a good hour with my middle child, the one that would bring me to my knees in tears, the one that is just like me. Now he says that things feel easier and he wants to be helpful. This kid and I know in our hearts that things are easier now, even in the sadness.

8:27am and they put their coats on while I grab my shoes. The little one picks up his bag and says, "Hey, you forgot to lunch me mama." Lunch me? Oh shit, lunches.

I spin into my head. We will be late. He is a better parent than I am. How do I even run a business if I can't remember to make lunches? I have three minutes. My head aches. I want to puke. I am too much. ADD as an adult can weaken the best morning.

Bread. Turkey. They tuck the sandwiches into the lunch boxes, one Batman and one blue stripes. We look at the clock. 8:30am. Three minutes to make the lunches. It feels so easy. They are filled with such love for me I am overflowing.

I pray that I can hold off the panic attack.

8:51am they climb out of the van, tears sting my eyes. I remember her text months ago, half joking (but she really did), "I pray for your satisfaction."

My demons are of satisfaction. The panic attacks are returning when life is threatening more happiness than I know how to hold.

She also said that when I was ready for the love story that it would come. My response was, "FUCK no." My demons are of satisfaction. Love? I get lost in love. I am lonely in love. I'll take the soap opera, the drama, the noise, the chaos, the pain, the pushing, the fight, the sadness. Love.

A few months ago I sent a text. "I think I was put on this earth to love deeper than I understand yet and I pray that some of that love has helped you to heal." Love. My demons are of satisfaction.

I keep drawing in more happiness than I feel entitled to. I have been lonely for as long as I can find memories. I believe I was born with loneliness as my guide. My teacher for the years that I walk this life. I was also born with a joy that feels unmeasurable, each time I laugh I am refilled.

This song plays and I stop. I listen. This is me. I am her.

And you laugh like you've never been lonely That's alright honey That's alright with me Oh you laugh like there's hope in the story That's alright honey That's alright with me Oh you laugh like I'll be there to hold you always Always here I'm always here, always here

And you love like you've always been lonely That's alright honey That's alright with me Oh you love him with all of your body That's alright honey That's alright with me Oh you love him like he'll be there for always Always honey yeah, always near Always honey, always near Always honey, always near

My full moon wish was to pull love towards me through space and stillness, to quiet a mind that creates stories of non-truths as protection. 10:13am I have filled my belly with water, my intuition with each glass.

And you love like you've always been lonely...

Always. Never. Trust. Time. Love.

11:01am. Stillness and words in-between the wake ups, the feedings, the drop offs and pick ups, the feeling like you are always forgetting something, someone.

The in-between craving being held because you know that satisfaction is there.

In the stillness and space of being wrapped in arms of lover and friend. Hands running through your hair, the touch of skin. The words reminding you of your laugh when you hear its sound in your ear.

The part of you that will journey with your loneliness.

And you laugh like you've never been lonely...