So I haven’t written on here in a while. Mostly because it’s hard to give words to my life right now, especially words for you to read.
I live a hard hard life right now. And saying that on paper sounds so incredibly prideful/selfish/braggish. I should be focusing on blessings only, right? That’s what a good Christian should do. I should be saying things like, how grateful I am that my dad is living still, that I have a full time job, that I am healthy. I should be grateful for all these things. And I am.
That does not make life any less hard. Nor does it make me prideful to admit that.
It took some advice from an old friend (and seeing the movie Inside Out) to help me realize that being honest with this pain is okay.
It’s okay for me to say that my life is hard right now. That some things about my life have always been very hard. It’s okay to say that sometimes I feel like I won’t ever see the end of this tunnel, that I feel trapped, that I feel tired, that some mornings the bags beneath my eyes are so black they look like bruises.
It’s okay to say that.
I am tired. I feel behind at life in so many ways. I feel trapped in an impossible situation with too many tough things to balance. I have a challenging and engrossing job and I have just moved to a new city, again, and my dad is disabled and needs a ton of help. And I feel obligated to help him. I can’t leave my mom to fend for herself. Yet it is so hard to be a grown adult who has moved back home and in with her parents. The lack of privacy, the working together on household things, these are all things I left behind when I graduated high school. And here I am more than a decade later once again making small talk with my mom each day in the kitchen after work and helping my dad brush his teeth. It’s all a little surreal. It’s easy to get overwhelmed, frustrated, sad, lonely, and feel under-appreciated.
Let me say that I don’t feel like writing these things here changes anything and actually, I don’t want them to. More or less writing them here changes me. It gives me permission to be sad, to be frustrated, and to feel alone in a crowd. Writing down how hard it is to be me right now lets me acknowledge how I feel to myself. It doesn’t change the way things are. But it does let me be honest. And honest is enough. For now.