Well, literally I am here, at home – most specifically seated at my computer desk typing this note.
But in every other sense of the word, I feel very lost. This may possibly be one of those brutally honest posts – the kind where I throw punctuation and grammar to the wind and just write. We shall see.
Where am I?
I am lost.
Lost in the realities of stressful everyday life.
There was never enough money and then my husband’s overtime was cut. Shit. I don’t blame him. I feel badly for him. He works so hard to provide for our family and I know that he’s blaming himself.
Lost in a vicious cycle of trying to get things done.
The house needs so much work. We haven’t had the time or resources to do any of the planned projects. The floor in our hall bathroom and laundry room need to be replaced due to a water leak. We haven’t been able to recover the floors since we removed the carpeting. The sub-flooring is so difficult to clean. I so badly want to repaint the walls. There’s been a lot of living done since we moved in 10 years ago. It just feels old and dirty and worn-out.
Lost in a stupid battle of self-loathing and self-criticism that spews out on all of those around me.
….If I could just figure out how to make the money stretch far enough. If I could just keep the house clean enough. If I could just manage my time well enough to get things done.
A tiny little voice in my head says that I’m doing the best that I can. The loud voices are yelling that I’m a stupid failure that isn’t good enough. That it’s all my fault.
I’m tired and sad. Probably more than sad. I’m having trouble keeping my eye on the dream…Honestly, I’m having trouble maintaining any optimism or hope at all.
The “I want to” is bigger than the “I can”. I want to make home-made nutritious meals for my family. I’m lucky to fix boxed macaroni and cheese. I want fresh sheets on the bed every week. Even if I get them washed, they don’t always make it on the bed. The dog hair on the floor is starting to look like really ugly carpeting. I don’t even know where the broom is right now. Let’s not even get into the art-making process. There is neither the time or energy for that.
I know that things will get better.
I just need patience – with myself, those I love and our situation. I need to take more time to breathe and look for the joy around me. I know it’s there.
I know that I need to start writing again. The process of putting words on paper (actually putting fingers to keyboard) is a magical way to stop the racing mind and see things more clearly.
And I know from your kind comments that I am not alone in any of this. Stressful lives, despair and hopelessness are not uncommon out there in this world of ours. This difficult and sometimes scary world – this world that is also full of love and beauty. We can help each other with sharing and kindness.
It’s so often easier to be kind to others than it is to be kind to ourselves – easier to see the hope for someone else’s life.
I hope that each of you can find some small measure of beauty, joy, peace and hope for yourself today. I am off to find some for myself.
One thought on “Where the hell am I?”
Save the dishes. I’ll do them on Friday. You can fold laundry while I wash dishes and we will chat, have a lovely time and then crash for a nap on the newly cleared couch. (In my house laundry on the couch gets in the way of naps.)
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