Lately? It’s like I’m either a cracked-out-unicorn pooping glitter and vomiting sunshine or an over-sedated, insomniac, depressed-about-being-depressed-about not-knowing-what-he’s-depressed-about Eeyore (if you don’t know who Eeyore is, we can’t be friends. Good day sirs and ma’ms).
Either way I’m some kind of horse, apparently. So that’s just peachy.
Unicorn or Eeyore. Horse or horse. (Shut up Ely). There is no in between. My current mental status is a raging home-wrecking-whore from hell. I’m just all sorts of anxious and determined to move mountains and tired of exerting all of my fucking energy to move mountains. Fuck you, mountains. Die. I don’t want to move you. But I can’t afford to pay someone to move you for me. I’ll never win.
One minute I’m ready to move all them mountains and the next I wanna cry in a corner of my kitchen floor and give up on everything I’ve worked so hard for and then the next I’m bitch-slapping myself back into the reality of things need to get DONE girl and just like that I’m back on hustle-beast-mode and then I’m suddenly so angry at the world for who knows WHAT reasons anymore and then BAM I’m jamming to some mad inspirational thug rap and on my bitch don’t kill my vibe mode but then it’s not too long before I want nothing more than to sleep for 6 years and never be woken up. EVER.
What? No punctuation you say? What is punctuation? You weren’t supposed to breathe while you read that. Moving on…
It’s a nightmare of an internal merry-go-every-fucking-direction happening inside.
You know for the record, I’ve mentioned the whole “anxiety” ordeal before but I don’t know I don’t think I have any clinical issues. I think I’m just overwhelmed. I think I’m just an over-thinker and over-analyzer of all things and I create all these problems for myself.
Clinical or not, nothing can justify my sometimes bullshit and inexcusable mood swings and panic attacks. But it’s not like I want these things to happen to me.
Do I enjoy the heat waves and the dizziness and feeling like I’m gonna have a heart attack every single time I need to cross a street or walk through a busy store? Or wash a sink full of dishes? No. Fuck no. Even a mentally incapacitated chicken can cross a road without having an internal attack for fuck’s sake.
Does my family deserve the screaming every single time an item is 2 inches out of it’s place or if the candles and succulents on my coffee table are not symmetrically aligned the way I need them to be?!
ABSOLUTELY! Probably not. Though…I’m seriously considering GLUEING shit down where I want it because symmetry is SUCH a traumatic issue for me these days. And it just isn’t working with these batshit crazy children bouncing off the walls 24 fucking 7, moving my things out of place and a man who just doesn’t get it when it comes to the calculated placement of my candles and succulents.
[He doesn’t get why it’s such a big deal to me. Ha! But ask him to build a mansion from scratch and boom! Fucking genius! But the simple things? Noooo ask for symmetrically placed ornaments on your coffee table and he looks at me like I’m a fucking demon-God-spirit-monkey-witch from outer-space here to kill him with my laser beam eyes and steal his soul away to give to the wicked wizards of West Neptune for their Trump-inspired recipe to take over the universe.]
Why does it have to be so complicated?!
Anyhow- clearly, something’s up. There’s always a deeper underlying issue to deal with. And I think this time it’s bigger than just “relax girl everything will fall into place, just have patience and give it time!” I think this is off the spectrum of “Rome wasn’t built overnight.”
I’m afraid that this fast-paced multitasking life that I’m living is killing me slowly. I have no time to just sit and breathe. I barely have real time with my kids, and this is breaking my heart. I’m always 675 hours behind on sleep and moody and feeling overwhelmed with things to do and deadlines to meet.
I feel like life is flying right past me and I’m losing these moments. These little moments. The semi-toothless smiles on my daughter’s face that will soon be filled with her big-girl teeth forever. My little boy’s little rusty too-mature-for-a-6-year-old voice that melts everyone’s heart and how one day I may not remember the sound of it. It’ll be gone. The way they both still want to play hide-and-seek and playing with mommy isn’t “for babies” yet, but there’s just barely ever any time. I fear losing nights where they fall asleep on each side of me after watching a movie- because I’m just never able to lay down anymore. I’m a slave to working. I’m a slave to providing. I’m a slave to bills and expenses. It’s just too much. And it’s just never enough.
I know that we busy moms out here hustling for our dreams say we do this for them.
But what is it that will REALLY matter in the end? The expensive fancy lifestyles or the playful lazy days of hide-n-seek and binge watching Disney movies?
What will they treasure most? What is the answer? What is the right thing to do?
The reality of this all, is truly breaking my heart.
I’m torn between my reality and my passion. My day job and my night dreams. I have to let go of something. But how do you let go of something that sets your soul on fire versus the thing that keeps your family fed and that keeps a roof over your head? The answer seems obvious and simple, because money reigns. But it’s so much deeper than this.
I don’t know what direction I’m headed towards anymore and I think it’s tearing me apart. I can’t do everything anymore. And it makes me just want to do nothing.
I’m sure tomorrow I’ll wake up feeling like Wonder Woman again but I always come back to this feeling. This feeling of something’s gotta give. This feeling of… why are you letting life pass you by. This feeling of… they won’t be little forever, momma bear.. and this feeling of you can’t give up after how far you’ve come.
I JUST want to be at peace with my life.
WHY must I surrender everything, for money? When will I stop feeling like a prisoner?
When will the peace come? Where is the light at the end of this endless fucking tunnel? When will I sleep? When will I laugh again? When will I say “I made the right choice”?