Slump, the mere definition…. to sink or fall heavily and suddenly, sounds so daunting, yet at one time or another we all fall victim to it. This past week I have been in a slump. I’m not too sure what brought it on, and I wish at this point, I knew what it would take to get rid of it, but right now…I just feel like an anchor has been attached to my ankle and I’m slowing sinking into a quagmire. To be honest, I’m not really fighting it either. I’m letting it pull me down. Oh sure every once in a while I give it a little tug, more for show than anything else. I can say to myself, hey I’m trying to fight it, but I’m not really putting much effort into it. I know its mind over matter; I know it’s a lot easier to give in than fight. If I truly examine why I want to stay in this “slump”, I’ll also admit that it has gotten quite comfortable. It’s like that worn hoodie you throw on to conceal your face from the world; you zip it up, you pull it over your hands and you begin to feel invisible. That is how I am feeling….invisible. I want to stay here. Here I do not have to face the world; here I can use my “slump” as an excuse to avoid everything. Why haven’t I finished the laundry…..must be the slump, why haven’t I made dinner….the slump for sure; going for a walk….nope, can’t…. slump. This is unacceptable. We all fall into slumps, falling is the easy part, climbing out is what shows strength and character; that is the difficult part. So I must persevere. I do not want to be a quitter. I do not want to be known as weak, I’d like to be known as a fighter. This slump cannot and will not get the best of me. I will throw myself a pity party. I will feel sorry for myself, and do the poor me for a bit, for I think it’s not realistic to believe that we can always be on our A game. But this party has a start time and a finish time, as all parties do. When the clock strikes midnight, the party is over. No more pity, no more feeling sorry for myself, no more slump. I will grab the rope that my husband, children, and friends have thrown me to help me to climb out. I will be grateful they were willing to toss it to me. Even if it takes me a few days, I will put one foot in front of the other and move in a positive direction, leaving my baggage at the bottom of the abyss. Will I fall again? Of course I will, but maybe next time not so far and not so long. Maybe I will remember how worthwhile it felt when I pulled myself out. This is what I will do.