Today is a day when I have nothing left.
I’m still here, so there’s got to be something – some shreds of me, fluttering reluctantly in the breeze. I don’t exactly know how to go on – how to make it to the next step.
We’ve all heard that moving is one of the most stressful things you can do. It’s true. It’s a great thing, and wonderful, and I’m so thankful… but I’m so exhausted. I don’t know where any of my stuff is. I don’t know where a bobby pin is – that was the straw that broke me this morning. So stupid.
Yesterday, I struggled to make it through the day. I was so exhausted, my eyes were dry and prone to closing without my permission. After weeks of not really sleeping, and then packing and moving and finally being here – in our own house – I knew that I needed to tap out.
I went to bed “early” at 8:30PM after finally getting Thomas down. I left James up with his dad to do whatever they wanted to do and figure out bedtime. I got about 3 hours of sleep before the night started – Thomas up 4-5 times through the night to either eat or droop exhaustedly over my shoulder or melt onto my chest. James up 3-4 times with nightmares, finally I pulled him into my place in our bed and went to sleep in the same room as Thomas.
After “waking up” and scrambling to get bottles filled, boys changed into clean clothes and diapers and undies – I’m sitting at work, the lowest-ebb version of myself. Not showered (no time). No makeup (can’t find it). Haven’t eaten (no food yet in the house). Worn out and feeling like a terrible spouse, terrible mother, terrible employee, and terrible to myself.
I thought I was at my lowest point yesterday, but now with even less sleep and nothing to show for going to bed early… there’s even more “to do” with even less of me.
Of course I’ll “make it through”. But that’s not what I need to hear. I just need to get this out, so I can try to figure out how to survive the 10 hour shift in front of me, followed by an evening/bedtime routine, and then possibly another terrible night of sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And somewhere in there, trying to unpack. Find a place for our things. Slowly turn this house into our home. And find it within myself to take care of myself. And then take care of my guys.
All of that is simply too much to be confronted with right now. My heart is trembling. I feel raw – exposed – like my insides are on display. There’s no armor left. I want to curl up inside something safe, but I don’t know if that’s an option.
I’ll just have to go on, taking one small step at a time. And hope that’s enough.