I think my heart is broken.
I think I’ve hit a point where everything is just too much.
It’s not one specific thing, it’s the cumulative effect of all the little things (and a few big things).
I don’t remember how to let go anymore, I don’t remember how to shake the weight from my shoulders. I don’t remember what it feels like to not be responsible for everything all the time.
So far 2018 has been a roll with the punches and try to stay standing sort of endeavour. Work, home, life… Major changes almost weekly it seems.
My work hours have changed 3 times in 4 months. I went from working 28 hours a week to working a 40 hour 4 day line. Then I went to 48 hour 4 day line. Now I’m doing a 40 hour 5 day line. I held the hand of dying man who I adored. Ive held back tears. I’ve felt the sting of coworkers hating on me because I was the staff left standing with a job when the dust settled. I’ve done my best to adjust and be thankful that I have a job to provide for my family.
I’ve noticed these fine lines around my eyes and mouth. I’ve notice the ever increasing number of grey hairs sneaking through my once glorious hair. I’ve noticed I no longer make eye contact with people when I have to go out in public. Is this an age thing? 36? Is it the age where I’ve decided to get old? Or am I really just tired of people?
I recently took part in a conversation where a young mom said that people who “drop their friends” because of marriage, kids, work etc are flaky. I’m not flaky, I’m exhausted. I don’t think anyone sets out to drop their friends when adult life takes over but life priorities really do cause you (well me) to see my friends less. I’d love to see my friends weekly but with only two days off a week and 1400 things to get done how do I do this? If you know how please tell me.
I’ve noticed that my needs and well-being come last. I don’t prioritize myself because by the time everything and everyone else is taken care of the day is done.
I’ve noticed I’ve had to justify more things to people who I actually thought were concerned and cared.
I don’t think this is what a normal adult life is supposed to be like? I’m not feeling sorry for myself I’m just putting into words how I feel. But then again I’m not sure why I’m even trying to justify my words and feelings by adding that.
Sometimes I get this glimmer of something that reminds me I’m a bad ass! Something that reminds me that I should be proud of myself for holding it together, doing everything I can to provide for my son and disabled husband. Sometimes I watch as Jacob loves life and I forget I’m dying inside.
Maybe it’s not my heart that’s broken maybe it’s my soul.