December 23, 2019

It was the second week that I was sick. I had tried almost every medication imaginable to try to speed up the healing process. I hate being sick. This was the fourth cold since I moved to another state and my immune system was in a twister-twirl! Besides, life doesn’t stop: there are still hungry kids, laundry, dinners, events, and obligations so how dare this cold try to break up my flawless routine!

So, in the only way a stubborn, type-A woman can do, I pressed on. Smiling at clients, listening to the woes of people who called or came by and even found the time to send some encouraging words to a friend or two. I pressed on doing me…

And, I got sicker. Once the tasks of the day had had their way with me, I fell into the bed with a fever, a cough that tried to escape, and a blanket wrapped around me so that I could “sweat it out.” But, I could not shake this thing. My mind began to ramble through mental google searches of all the deadly things that I could have and I envisioned the faces of all of the “they will be sorry people” when I succumbed to this mysterious life-threatening disease. I had a cold, y’all.

In the midst of this drama, I also had a birthday. It was a big one. It wasn’t “the” big one, but it was the “hey, get me off this thing,” one. My husband wanted to do something big, but I just wanted to sleep. However, I am old enough to know that you NEVER stop a man from doing something for you, so I dressed up, put on some make-up, and smiled through dinner and small-talk while secretly planning his untimely demise should ANYONE burst out of the shadows singing “Happy Birthday.” It was amazing that I managed to eat while holding my breath. Well, I made it through dinner in spite of the beads of sweat that was rushing from my forehead.

When I got home, I followed the routine: took off the birthday suit, got in the shower, and crawled into the bed. The next day was much of the same and the next, no different than the one before. Then it happened. I took a day off. I promised myself that I would leave my bed only to make sure that I didn’t pee in the bed (or worse).

On this “off” day, I just couldn’t shake the routine and quite frankly, I have trained my family to believe that I AM WONDERWOMAN insert cape and theme music
Well, I do Wonder…

I often wonder what am I missing.
I often wonder when I will die.
I often wonder will the sacrifices that I have made be enough.
I often wonder do I have what it takes to make it to the next level.
I often wonder if the people that have hurt me ever feel bad about it….

These thoughts of unpeace pop up from time to time and I am left having to decide if I am going to stay in them or push through. As those thoughts were rambling through my head, my throat started to hurt again, so I decided to make ANOTHER cup of tea. Following the usual steps, I was putting the final touches to my tea. I picked up the bottle of honey and something grasped my attention: the label said, “Honey Flavored.” I thought to myself, “how in the heck do you make fake honey and what is in it?” I mean, honey is about as natural as they come, right?

Then it dawned on me. How many things in our lives look real, maybe even tastes real, but when you take a closer look, it is not what you thought it was supposed to be. Honey-flavored doesn’t give you the natural healing benefits that real honey does. It just looks the part.

What is in your life that looks the part, but carries no healthy benefits? Is it the one-sided friendship? Is it an unhealthy relationship? Is it that toxic job? Whatever it is, at the end of the day it can only do what it said it would do—nothing….AND that will probably leave a bad taste in your life.


Published by Phylisha

Life Coach. Writer. Artist. Teacher. Mother. Wife. Friend.

2 thoughts on “BLOGS

  1. I agree! There are a lot of things we encounter that are nit the original. I am glad you healed and glad you spilled the tea you had a birthday. I will be getting that date from you when I see you! Great write and something I’ll be thinking about.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: