I hate Mondays but not for the reason most people do as I no longer work, so I don’t have what my husband refers to as “Sunday Stress” leading to Monday Morning Dread and Panic.

For me, every Monday is the same.  I wake up exhausting and hurting after taking care of Tyler all weekend long.  I drag my ass around whenever Tyler gets up, giving him breakfast, dressing him, making his lunch, etc.  I kiss him goodbye and tell him to have a good day and Grant brings him to school.  The only saving grace I have while I am getting him ready is knowing that I can go right back to bed afterwards.

Then I take my pain meds and psychiatric/sedation meds and go back to sleep or rest for a couple of more hours or so.  I listen to Howard Stern while I fall off to sleep or just sort of doze and if I am just laying there after a while I get up and get the coffee going.

I go on my computer, check my Twitter and emails and try to get enough coffee in me to start doing laundry.  I make phone calls, fill out paperwork or maybe l go to a doctor’s appointment. I am in disability limbo, waiting for a hearing date.

Every Monday is the same and pretty much has been ever since I stopped working nearly two and a half years ago.  It doesn’t seem like that long and yet it is.  Every Monday is the same.

Only…it isn’t.

Even though I am doing the same things, time IS passing and my savings are being drained with every Monday that passes.  My child is growing older.  My debt is growing larger.  My hopes are dimming and so is my faith.

It is an illusion that every Monday is the same.  There are so many factors that are beyond my control and yet, after taking my meds and sleeping those few hours trying to recover, I get up and fight the good fight for my son, husband and I, hoping and praying that next Monday will be different.