this too shall pass

I felt like I *should* drop into this space and write something. Something meaningful. Or helpful. Or interesting….

I’ve sat here and stared at a blank page for ten minutes. And the words just aren’t coming. I don’t know what to say. And even writing that makes me feel like crying. I feel a little lost. A little empty. My days are so full of everyone else, there is no room left for me. No space to even think, let alone try and get those words written down.

Days that start too early and finish too late, and never really end because the baby needs me all night long.

Days when I have a list as long as my arm to get done, yet I can’t put the baby down so once again, nothing gets ticked off.

Days when everyone else needs a piece of me, until I feel like there is nothing left.

My only peace those five minutes when I first get into bed, when I can lose myself in a chapter of my book, before the baby sirs. Read because I don’t want the silence to acknowledge my thoughts.

Some days are great. Other days not so good.

Somedays I’m all smiles and energy and ideas.

Others it’s more like tears and shuffling and not a clue.

Life is busy, and hard. But oh so beautiful. I wouldn’t change a thing and yet. That doesn’t mean I am not struggling. Even when it seems to the outside world that I am on top of everything, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel overwhelmed. The house is clean and tidy{ish}. The laundry is on top of. I manage to feed all of us, several times a day. The kiddos are still getting their ‘school work’ done. I play with them, read with them, talk with them. Take them to endless groups. Life is ongoing, and I’m managing it all.

Yet…

Lately, the tears are more often. The feeling of overwhelm greater. The loneliness even in a big, noisy family.

Financially I feel like I’m failing, I’m barely making ends meet – trying to be the sole one paying for a family of six isn’t easy, a little extra support or some maintenance would make a world of difference. There is always something to pay for, or someone needing new shoes. And Christmas is just around the corner, and I’m wondering how will I pay for it?

I am stretched thin, and all too aware of my fragile mental health. I feel like right now, maybe I am keeping it together, but it’s a bit like a timebomb I am just waiting to go off. How long can I hold it together? Long enough for things to ease and this season to move on to another?

When I stop reaching out, that’s when I know that I’m struggling, when I doubt myself and don’t message friends because maybe they don’t want to know. When I convince myself that I don’t fit in {anywhere} or that no-one wants to spend time with me anyway. I try and keep busy, so I don’t have time to sit and dwell on the paranoia. Ignore it as much as I can, refuse to acknowledge it and keep it to myself.

Yet, I doubt I am the only one feeling this way. Single or not, motherhood, especially with small babies is tough. Those first six months or so are about survival. You’re not getting much sleep. You can’t get much done because the baby needs you all the time. Your hormones are all over anyway. It’s all a bit crazy and lonely and overwhelming. So maybe we should be talking about how we feel, about our struggles, about feeling like we are failing. Reach out and be open, so we can see that we all feel the same.

I know this is just a season. That life will not always feel like this – things will change, I won’t feel so tired, so emotional, so overwhelmed forever. Things will fall into place, and life will be good and all work out. It’s just a case of taking one day at a time, holding on to the belief that this too shall pass.