Lately, I’ve been so tired that the thought of opening this blog feels like lifting a boulder underwater. I just could not do it. Until I did.
When you hear the word success, you picture exciting milestones, consistency, growth, happiness, and showing up for everyone, including yourself. You don’t picture the quiet riptide, or the exhaustion that feels so deep it fogs your thoughts, making all the small, simple decisions feel completely overwhelming. What is for breakfast? What are we doing today? What we are not doing is cooking. We have been running on takeout lately.
The truth is, I’ve been running on empty. I have reached my limit. I AM AT CAPACITY. And when my tank is dry, the spillover isn’t pretty.No, I’ve been short-tempered. I’ve been ill-mannered. I have just been unpleasant to be around. I’ve caught myself snapping when I just wanted peace, carrying a heavy, frayed sort of irritation that I hate projecting onto the people I love most in this world. I save the pleasant side of myself for stranger interactions and outside commitments. That is NOT how it should be.
My daughter deserves better than a burned-out version of Mom. And quite frankly, I deserve better than living in a constant state of survival mode, running off caffeine, carbs, and severe lack of sleep as a result of staring at the fan at night while anxieties and fears hide just behind the eyelids, waiting to sweep me away.
NO, THANK YOU. I have had enough.
The Illusion of Thriving
It’s funny how life works right alongside our breaking points. Recently, my school asked me to attend orientation events to speak out on being a “successful adult learner.” They want me to talk about balancing it all, about pushing through, and about how you can achieve your goals and be successful. Be a great communicator of your needs, expectations, and goals.
On paper, it looks like I have it figured out. I’m moving forward, checking the boxes, building a path, and walking that path. I am a success story of a survivor of domestic violence. But in reality, I just fell back into the old rhythm of my personal controlled spiral. Yes, look at me, academically successful, writing beautiful papers showing a complex and reasonable mind, yet I cannot get a grip on my personal life. We have an academically gifted and extracirricularly driven daughter; her cup always has ice, and her bag always has snacks; I am doing it right.
Or am I just setting her up to be just as perfectly complacent in the chaos as me?
As I had been sitting with that invitation, it brought a wave of quiet irony, because the internal reality couldn’t be further from the polished image. They want me to speak on how you can be so successful and still be thriving.
But looking in the mirror lately, the honest question I have to ask myself is: Am I thriving?
Or am I just surviving really, really well on the outside, and my body is screaming on the inside?
There is a dangerous difference between the two. You can hit every academic milestone, manage every professional responsibility, maintain every outward measure of achievement, and still be completely hollowed out on the inside. You can look like a success story while your nervous system is screaming for mercy. Believe me, mine is SCREAMING.
The Reset We Actually Need
We live in a culture that absolutely glorifies the hustle, praising us for how much weight mothers can carry without breaking. But we rarely talk about the physical and emotional cost of ignoring our limits, at every single red line it surpasses. We forget the most fundamental truth of human endurance: We cannot take care of others without taking care of ourselves. I repeat, we cannot take care of others without taking care of ourselves. Your children, your spouses, your pet, your job, gosh, your LAUNDRY? Hello? When was the last time we did something for ourselves, really did something? When did we use a soft voice for our children, when you have already repeated yourself ten times? Just try it, humor me. I did today. And I write this as I watch my child, finally asleep. After a wild day, and not for lack of manners or listening; no. She was really wonderful.
We need to stop expecting everyone around us to be as perfect as we want them to be, when we cannot even be. How can she take care of herself if I cannot take care of myself and her? How can she model her behavior and regulate her emotions if I am flying off the handle? Of course, she said “Mommy!” about 20 times during multiple conversations, but with an acknowledgement from me, I heard her; she was patient. Well, about as patient a child could be.
Today, I’m giving myself permission to stop. No forced inspiration, no guilt over missed posts, no pretending I have it all together for an audience or an orientation stage. Just a quiet pause to catch my breath, step back from the noise, and figure out how to reset. I did. I did what I needed to, we did what she wanted, and we did something together. That is it. I did not say “yes” to the toy she wanted, and she did not have a tantrum. She was easily distracted, but she held my hand and continued on for our designated items.
Did I get a massage, go to the gym, take a hot bath, or buy myself something I didn’t need? No. Did I even cook? Kinda, moving in the right direction. What we did was reset our lives by resetting our tone, our words, and our expectations, together.
My daughter and I are together the most. I see a lot of myself in her, and boy, do I hear a lot of myself in her. It is easy to snap when you have already reached your limit, and you just want to find some source of control or peace, or five minutes to be alone. But what I think about at night, and a lot today, is that I want to be with her when I finally get those breaks. And going back into another school year reminds me of how much I miss her during the day when we are involved in our own tasks. When I can’t experience her day with her, and make her feel better if she’s sad, or encourage her when she lacks confidence, those are the moments I think about when I lose my patience or temper. I just want to be there for her, not to be the reason she needs comfort. Especially when the days, months, and years go by so quickly.
Anyways, if you are feeling that same heavy pull today, if you are bone-tired and running on fumes, wondering how you’re supposed to keep up the appearance of thriving when you’re barely keeping your head above water, consider this your permission slip to put the boulder down and swim to the surface too. Don’t even try to pick up the heavy things. Just find your child, hug them. Do something together, use softer words, and give them the benefit of the doubt.
I was not perfect today. My problems did not disappear. I did not get to bed on time, or anywhere close to early. I promise I was probably not as nice to my poor husband as I thought. But tomorrow is a new day for me to keep trying. And apparently figure out how to tell people, how to be successful in a healthy manner…Wish me luck.
But, we don’t have to have it all together. We just have to give ourselves, and our children permission to breathe.
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