Exhausted And…

Exhausted and…

content || his blond mop-top nestles under my chin while his rhythmic breaths of sleep exhale across my chest, and if I take a deep breath I can practically smell the powder and lotion from his six-years-past baby days. He still snuggles and it is delightful.

Exhausted and…

frustrated || there. is. so. much. bickering. There is so much asking for stuff. There is SOMUCHYELLING!!!!!! Over the last year, I’ve become awakened to the unhealth of my idealism, especially how readily I resign myself to failure when my reality doesn’t match my idealistic expectations. Perhaps I should be thankful that my children’s interactions have sensitized me to an area of my life needing growth, but it is SO LOUD AND UNRELENTING and I just want some peace and quiet and maybe some knitting together around the table in candlelight while we sing kum-ba-yah and drink tea. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK??? ?

Exhausted and…

nervous || I’m making a visit to the breast specialist tomorrow. It’s all probably fine and I’m probably fine and all manner of things will probably be fine. But still…nervous.

Exhausted and…

trying || to be less exhausted. It’s a little haphazard, but I find myself trying to go to bed earlier and giving myself permission to be more ruthless in my prioritization. Nothing has gotten less important, but I’ve realized I have to do the most important thing first because I can’t do #allthethings. And in being perfectly honest with myself, I realized that more sleep is really one of the most important things.  I hope that with a few months of more sleep I won’t keep being chased by the monster of “Perpetually Worn Down and Depleted.”

Exhausted and…

wistful || given that it’s the end of September, it’s probably time to admit that fall is really here, isn’t it? Summer went fast for me this year. I’ll miss her and her warm breezes, open windows, and bare feet.

Exhausted and…

hopeful || I went to a counselor last year, just a trial visit. I didn’t love it—she was nice enough, but it just wasn’t the best fit. Naturally, my thought process went like this:

Me: well, that one person didn’t work so I guess I’ll just never be able to find a counselor. It’s not even worth the effort. I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out how to be fine on my own.

Announcer: Heidi could not, in fact, figure it out on her own.

In a recent 2AM fit of anxiety, I remembered the name of a second counselor someone had suggested to me last year when I was looking for the original counselor. I wonder what counselors think when they see 2AM time stamps on emails? Like…whew boy…better get this one in quick. She’s gonna have a lot to work with! ?  Anyway, we met a few weeks ago and I looooooove her. Why did I wait???  She listened to me for A WHOLE HOUR and she didn’t interrupt me or yell at me once <hi kids>. And she didn’t make me feel like an overly crazy lunatic, which I have felt when talking to other counselors. So I’m excited about this development. I’m excited to be listened to. I’m excited to have someone help me sort out my frustrations. I’m excited to have someone who’ll help me remember who I am, just me—not me the mother or me the homeschooler or me the whatever. I’m excited to let the light in again.

 

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