I just can’t today. I can’t get motivated. I can’t get happy. I can’t get excited about life. I just want to sit on the couch, ignore my life and watch a plethora of shows where everyone seems to have it more together than I do. Even Facebook seems to be mocking me with photos of happy ‘normal’ families, loving relationships, successful bloggers and perfect vacations. I realize I am usually the one posting all of that as well. Except the relationship. I am still in a holding pattern when it comes to a real commitment to anyone. Admitting I am struggling is hard, especially since I feel like I don’t have a right to.
I don’t think I am clinically depressed… I really don’t. I have been in my life and this is different. It may just be that the stomach virus I had this weekend that seems to be lingering has just finally worn my mind down along with my body. Or that I am dealing with a work mistake I made that could be devastating and leads me to tears just thinking about it. Maybe it is that I had a record year in income on the blog last year and everything I worked so hard to save is about to be given to the government while the Donald Trump’s of the world write off hair pieces and pay nothing. Maybe it is that I can not seem to get it all together all at once. Maybe it is that the casual friend I have been going to outings with seems to have drifted away. Maybe it is that I am tired of losing friends for stupid reasons. Maybe it is that I feel like the blog being down for an entire week really did serious damage to me and the clients I hope to work with. I don’t know. All I know is that I just can’t.
I was up late last night thinking. After I write the check to the good ‘ole IRS, I am starting over. Again. It feels like a vicious cycle. I started over when I got divorced. Started over when I lost friends I had for decades over a misunderstanding. Started over when I picked myself up and put all of my extra energy into making A Day in Motherhood a success. Started over when I reconnected with my brothers. I feel like I am always picking myself up, dusting myself off and starting over on steps towards the kind of life I want to have for me and my girls.
It is exhausting.
I had hoped, by now, to be more in a position of gaining ground. Getting ahead. Feeling secure. I am 43, after all. You would think I would have this life thing figured out. You would think I would have the ability to relax a little and breathe in my successes. You would think I would be able to have a stable relationship with friends and a comfortable connection with a lover in my life.
Instead I still feel like I am 25, fresh out of college and trying to come up with money for my school loans. Except I am not drunk, skinny or full of uneducated hope for the future anymore.
It is depressing.
But the absolute worst part of all of this emotional struggle is that all of my issues are so, so small. Lumped together they are not even large enough to warrant a real complaint. My life is amazing and blessed far more than it deserves to be. Even single with no real prospect at someone to love me unconditionally in a romantic way, I have few issues that can not be fixed with hard work and a good old fashioned therapist that can help me dig myself out of this ridiculous hole. The guilt of feeling down at all is part of the sadness.
It is humbling.
What I do know is that I can’t be the only one. I can not be the only woman who feels like what she has worked so hard to build around her is on the verge of falling apart with one more little push. I can not be the only one who messes up at work and worries for the future for her and her kids. I can not be the only one that still hurts over friendships lost that she thought meant so much to them. I can not be the only one who is tired of working to build a future only to write a check to people who make more in a week than she does all year. I can not be the only single mom that longs to feel the comfort of someone caring for her for once. I can not be the only one who knows that she has an awesome life but still can’t seem to pull herself out of the fog to truly enjoy it. There have to be more me’s out there. And if they are, then all of us needs to be able to talk about it and vent without judgement.
It is the reality.
In the end, I will be fine. The flowers are blooming, I have some amazing opportunities on the horizon and with hard, dedicated work, I can repair my work issue and rebuild that coveted savings account once more. That is what we do anyway, isn’t it ladies? We get down, we overthink, we feel the sadness with our whole body and then we pick ourselves up and power through with a strength we didn’t know we had to change things back to the happy we love. But we can not do it alone. Hopefully my honesty and this post will show that we all suffer sometimes. And we never do it alone.
It is the truth.