Prompt: Utilize the "Spoon Theory" prominently in the story. The "Spoon Theory" is a metaphor for those living with chronic illness. A person wakes each day with only a certain number of spoons and each activity that is affected by their illness takes a spoon. When the spoons are gone, the energy for the day is gone.
Character: Emma Pillsbury. Emma and I have far more in common than I would care to admit sometimes. This brief narrative was far too easy for me to write because it's basically me. My anxiety does not manifest in OCD, I'm blessed with panic attacks instead, but every day is still a challenge.
Words: 500. Exactly. Of course.
Date: August 29, 2012
Spoons
She yawned and made her way to the bedroom where Will was already asleep. He had an early morning preparing for Glee Club tomorrow and wanted to get out of the house early. She slipped into her nightgown, barely having the energy to pull it over her head, then pushed herself to brush her teeth. She kept the light off though. In the soft glow of the night light, the sink looked sparklingly clean and for just tonight she could fool herself. In the morning she'd have the energy to clean again, but tonight she just couldn't.
She loved living with Will, but it stole so many more spoons than living alone had. She knew she'd wake up to the cap off the toothpaste, a dirty sink and water stains on the counter. She'd scrub it. She'd have to before she'd be able to take on anything else that day. She loved Will, but the germs and the mess of living with someone else were sometimes all-consuming.
She'd shower, noticing every piece of dirt and every stray hair that he'd left behind and she'd have to clean it before she herself would feel clean. She'd dress and go down to breakfast where the coffee would be made, but the coffee rings left from Will's cup would need to be wiped away before she poured her own mug. The dishes would be on the counter and she'd have to put them in the dishwasher and wipe off all the countertops before she could leave the house. Coming home to the mess would be overwhelming, so she did it while she still had spoons left.
She was lucky though. Despite the ever present germs and dirt that came with stepping foot in a high school, her office was a safe haven that she disinfected every night before she went home. In that office she could breath, but that wasn't the best part. Though not every meeting with every child restored her energy and gave her more spoons, certain ones did. Sometimes, the difference she made completely revitalized her.
On those days, she could go home and cook romantic dinners for Will. She could let him "help" with the dishes as he wrapped his arms around her waist and teased her neck with butterfly kisses. And on those days she could let him lead her to the bedroom where her anxiety sometimes grew so strong she wanted nothing more than to flee. With a spoon on reserve though she swallowed her fears and gave into every terrifying aspect of sex, allowing herself to disappear into the safety of his arms and the purity of the darkness behind her eyelids. She allowed herself to stop thinking and simply to feel.
As she brushed her teeth in the dark that night, she knew that today was not one of those days and she had nothing left. Living with Will depleted her resources more than she ever thought possible. But loving him made everything worth it.