Yet another morning I struggle to hold back the tears…feeling like a failure who has just wasted time and years.
Although we know that our children and the memories we made is the good that came out of our pain, we often feel like the years that we invested were a waste. That feeling is what has me in tears on this Monday morning, December 13, 2021. My once, close knit family is in dysfunction. My nearly perfect kids, almost perfect life…PERFECT FOR ME…we worked…My babies had a family. We vacationed together, took family photos, had family game nights, ate together, went to sporting events, our holidays were amazing. Now I can’t seem to keep anything consistently moving and it hurts.
Too mentally exhausted to even finish this entry, I carried my horrible start to my morning into my workday and now into my night. From sleepless nights, panic attacks, and everything in between, the closer Christmas gets the quicker I am beginning to unravel. From negative bank accounts, an empty refrigerator, untimely vehicle repairs, unpaid rent and mounting debt, the excitement that I had about a new start, and an exciting Christmas has all but faded.
I’m tired. Tired of willing my heart to mend…tired of trying to get people to feel my pain…tired of trying to understand WHY…tired of the mental tax that comes with staying even; the work of therapy, coping skills, etc . This is especially difficult because it requires me to take extra time from an already tight schedule. Finally, I am tired of trying to encourage others to believe and stay the course, when I’m struggling to do the same. Today was extremely challenging because I do not want to make any waves at work. My panic attacks will draw attention, and that is an uncomfortable experience for me.
While this has been an extremely humiliating experience, I can say that I never thought I was too good to struggle. I’ve simply grown tired of struggling. Always making it look easy, being the one to always take losses, it becomes tiring. Being a woman of faith, I am well aware that God will make a way; I am all too familiar with having to stand on my faith. At fifty-one years old though, I am exhausted. The losses that my family has taken have been more than I can bear at this point in my life. I am completely overwhelmed to the point that I can’t breathe. Just the thought of all that December represents completely overwhelms me.
As I type, it all begins to come together. Being aware of my depression and anxiety allows me to sometimes plan ahead in order to prevent myself from having to experience certain situations. For example, I planned certain things in advance in order to prevent my depression during this time. Unfortunately, I oftentimes, as do many of us, place unrealistic expectations on myself. I planned too far ahead. I was determined not to be depressed; therefore, I planned months in advance instead of trying to get through each day one at a time. Each day that I was successful, I placed more pressure upon myself to focus on getting to the next week or month rather than the next day.
I lived my live celebrating the accomplishments of others no matter how big or small. My accomplishments were only recognizable if they were huge. Now that I have hit a snag I feel like a failure. The expectations I have for myself, and my family are and always have been, extremely high. This is a result of constantly being disappointed by people. When I don’t have any expectations the things that are done have less of an effect on my mental state. This is how I protect ME. From my wedding anniversary on December 3rd, until New Year’s Eve on Dec 31st, and death anniversaries and birthdays, not to mention Christmas…the month of December is full of memories (good and bad), love, family, support, and betrayal. Focused on Christmas, I didn’t prepare for the other dates. I have been spiraling ever since.
With 13 days left, I still have time to replant my feet. Thirteen days to refocus on Christmas joy, peace, love, happiness, and hope. The refocus for a New way of life; not for a day or week, but for a lifetime of happiness.
Dying to be Perfect 