The Breaking Point

Lately I feel like all I’m doing is spinning my wheels. The last page of this journal is full and it’s time to start another one. I’m hesitant because I’m so confused and frustrated by what’s going on in my life, and I don’t want to write or speak things into existence, but I also can’t leave all of this bottled up inside. Last month I was ready to enjoy the process, but I’m not feeling that at all right now.


We’ve had some gorgeous weather the last 2-3 days. The sun is shining, but we can’t get out and enjoy it because this crazy flip-flop weather is an asthma trigger for the kids, and they’re coming off the most recent virus related asthma episode. I can’t explain to you how badly I need to get out and walk one of the trails, or watch my kids play at the park. It won’t fix my problems, but it would be so nice to get out in the sun to walk and think.

I knew this winter could be hard on us even though it’s been a mild one. The kids are getting sick one after the other and back to back. We’re in and out of the ER, having short hospital stays(maybe that’s the silver lining)and constantly in and out of the Dr’s office. The pharmacy knows my family well because I’m in there so often. There are times when I go to pick up a prescription and I can’t remember which child I’m there for. All three of them are on almost the same medications now. I have alarms set on my phone to remind me when to give what, and our medicine cabinet looks like a mini pharmacy.

I am exhausted, frustrated and overwhelmed. I used to do a lot of my writing at night, but that hasn’t been happening lately. I’m either so tired that I can’t focus, or I would rather watch something on Netflix so I can escape my crazy reality for a moment. I squeeze writing in whenever I can, and it’s not as often as I would like.
I haven’t slept well in months. I can usually go on 4-6hrs of sleep, but I’m waking every 2hrs either because I’ve set my alarm to time how often breathing treatments are needed, or I wake up and can’t get back to sleep.  I’ve tried writing down whatever it is I wake up thinking about, but that doesn’t help.

The longer this goes on the more annoyed and angry I start to feel. A couple of weeks ago one of the ladies at church told me I need to let go of the Why, but I keep coming back to the same question…Why?
Why does it feel like everything is falling apart all over again? Why have my kids been sick way more than usual? Why can’t I be like some of these other single moms I admire so much? Why is it so hard for me to get  my ideas off the ground. Why does everything have to be so hard? Why does everything feel like a struggle? Why do I feel so alone?

Every time I attempt to move forward I get knocked back. I can’t tell if I’m not working hard enough, don’t want it bad enough, or it’s not meant to work out yet? I know she’s right, I do need to let go of the why, but my problem is I’m one of those people who has to understand why things fall apart or work out the way they do.

People keep telling me I’m strong, I’m tough, they admire me, I rock this single mom thing.
I love that sharing my story can encourage and inspire someone else, but lately I feel like a fraud.
That is not the person I see when I look in the mirror, and it’s not how I feel lately trying to live my life.
Every setback feels like another thread unraveling from the knot.
I feel deflated and vulnerable.

When people would ask me how I was doing, my response was almost always “I’m Fabulous!” and now it’s “tired, good, fine” What I really want to do is cry and find someway to make it all stop. There’s so much other stuff going on in my personal life and I can’t or won’t share here, but lately I’ve been walking around with this feeling in my stomach and I can’t seem to shake it for more than a few minutes at a time.

It’s not like I can walk away because I’m over it, and I am so.over. it.
I choose to keep going because there is no one else here to pick up the slack.
One mom, three kids, 24/7. Their little eyes and ears are watching and listening to everything I say and do.

It seems like the harder I push the worse things get. I know there are people who have it way worse than I do and compared to them I have it made, but that does not invalidate what I’m going through at the moment, and it doesn’t make it less real or easier. I want my kids to grow up and be proud of me and know I did everything humanly possible for us.