I’m just so fucking tired.
(Yes, this is a post in which a swear a lot. Prepare yourself.)
It is the back and forth from Awesome to Suckfest that is getting to me. Expectations to being let down to being surprised in a good way to being surprised in a bad way, this is all taking its toll.
Motherhood. Marriage. Life. Being Kim. Back and forth back and forth easy hard easy hard rush rush rush.
Like yesterday, I got a phone call from a friend who drove my kids to camp with hers. Her son was a little sad, and apparently my kids opened up a big can of I Love You on his ass and made him feel special, important, loved, and understood. They rose to the occasion because that’s the kind of awesome kids they are.
Then today Miss A started the day cute for about 13 seconds, then the fiery red horns sprouted from her head. She was so bad so many times while I was trying to take a shit that by the time I made it out of there I was furious.
I JUST WANT TO TAKE A SHIT, PLEASE. BE. FUCKING. HAVE.
I have a few hours of alone time during camp, I can write, I can work on my book, I can go get a mani-pedi. The morning is All Mine.
I’m in the my lovely new office with the windows open for the first time in ages. A sweet cool breeze is bringing fresh air in here, lifting my newly cut hair.
I have a home and a family and a husband and beautiful weather and free time.
But I am fucking spent.
I am so tired. I have so much of my book in me that I’m mentally trying to organize and re-work, I have other stories trying to come out, I am almost overwhelmed with the creative Writer side of me that I barely know how to process it all. It is rushing at me. I don’t have enough time to get it all out. I don’t have enough energy to get it all done.
My dreams at night are exhausting. All night long, relentless adventures and stories. I wake up sore.
My daytimes are spent on an emotional roller coaster of back and forth back and forth. Like the kids have camp for 2 more days this week, but I can’t stop thinking “What the fuck am I gonna do with them all day every day for the next 11 days when they don’t have camp?” Then: “OMG, I am such an asshole for thinking this. They are good kids who I’ve always wanted and I should relish in their childhood wonders.”
Where is my balance?
Where is my quiet?
Why the fuck can’t I just sit here enjoying this stupid breeze???
Why am I sitting here, banging away this curse-laden post with a scowl on my face and pinched shoulders?
I have so much yet feel overwhelmed.
I think about my mortality, how little time we all have on this earth. I want to do so much, yet I know it’s coming. If I am lucky enough to get 50 more years here, it will still be too soon for me. It will still fly by. Can I get all my Potential done in time? Will anyone notice when I do? Will anyone give me the chance to fulfill my potential?
And so I sit in my office. Stupid clean breeze pushing at me, trying to cheer me up, and yet I am tired and tense and on the verge of tears with frustrations about both good and bad things.
What the fuck.
I just want balance. Evenness. I just want to calmly coast for a little while. To get a break or an answer or a few more hours added to each day so I can at least figure it all out without wasting more days on the calendar.
Is that too much to ask?
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