Tired

I’m just really tired.

Not physically tired, although that’s a given. I’m mentally tired. It’s hard constantly trying to reign in racing thoughts, intentionally choosing to believe in something you can’t see, and resisting the urge to tangle with a toxic person. God is teaching me to turn my thoughts to Him when James is unstable, but it’s still exhausting to live in a home where you never know what you’re going to get. The kids are on edge and it comes out in aggressive behavior.

The other day, the counselor talked to me about a drawing Caleb did of his house. I was central in the drawing, which tells her that I’m a central part of his home. But I clearly wasn’t happy. And that tells her that, well, I’m not happy often enough that it defines the way he thinks of me.

It’s true, of course. And it leveled me.

My memories of my own childhood after my dad’s job loss are very similar. My mom wasn’t happy. In fact, she was in full-blown depression, which expressed itself in fits of rage and long periods in bed. I was scared about my dad’s job loss and scared by her behavior. I understand as an adult just how bad things were for her, but I’ve also always resented that no one was around to be a parent and shepherd my heart. I had to face that fear and terror on my own, just as I have as an adult.

And yet, here I am becoming the same angry person. I’m angry because the house is messy and I have to prove to James that I’m worth being a stay-at-home mom. I’m mad because the kids are fighting me on schoolwork, and I have to prove that homeschooling produces geniuses. I’m mad because I’m supposed to bring in more money than I am in order to justify my cost. Deep down inside, everything I’m mad about comes down to fear: fear that I’m not worthy or worth it. Fear that I’m screwing everything up. Fear that I’ve already ruined it all.

When you have to prove your value, life is one big panic attack. When you’re always trying to avoid the unavoidable tirade, you can’t ever relax. And when you can’t ever relax and just be yourself, life is unbearable.

But I don’t want my kids to remember me this way. I’m trying so hard to show them a different way to respond to stress, and a different way to respond to toxic people.

I’m just so tired. I don’t know how to keep going.