Yesterday, I had a little breakdown. The responsibility of raising my six kids, taking care of the house, writing articles, paying bills, driving here and there, attending sports practice, making dinner, and now packing and getting ready to move on top of everything else just got to me. I broke down crying and repeatedly said, "I can't do it all. I just can't do it. I can't do everything. No matter how hard I try, I just can't do it." I felt hopeless. I felt like I was drowning. I felt like I would never ever get caught up and have everything taken care of when it needed to be taken care of.
My little breakdown continued this morning. I have so unbelievably much to do. So much so, in fact, that I didn't know where to start. I just looked around at the empty boxes and the piles of belongings to be packed. I glanced at my long "to do" lists. I gazed, completely devoid of emotion at the stack of papers on my desk. Then I lay down with Brooklyn to watch a movie. Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed, I just shut down. I don't know where to start, so I don't do anything.
I'm happy to say that after 24 hours of a lovely little pity party, I picked myself up, did some cleaning, and made a dent in my "to do" list. I always feel weak when I break down and feel sorry for myself. I hate feeling like that. There's no reason for it. I'm stronger than that. I have too many blessings and good things in my life to wallow in self pity. But despite that, now and then, I do lose control and cry. I have a very hard time remembering that it's okay to feel overwhelmed and it's okay to cry sometimes.
When I look back on different situations in my life and see how they worked out so well despite my tears, aggravation, frustration and fear that things would never turn around, I feel foolish. I love being able to look back and see how God knits everything together for good. I think that's how I keep going and how I can enjoy my kids without stressing out too much over the little things. Because I know, those little things just don't matter in the long run.
This is what I wrote over at Babble today. . .
I'm raising my six children without any help from their father. That's not the way I wanted it when we were going through the divorce process. In fact, the first thing I said to my lawyer is that I wanted my soon-to-be ex involved in the kids lives as much as possible. But, unfortunately, he couldn't deal with everything and chose to remove himself entirely. Although it's hard and demanding and takes every minute of every day and then some, I wouldn't trade places with him for all the money in the world. At the end of the day, I can look myself in the mirror and (aside from the wrinkles and bags under my eyes) like what I see. I can go to bed confident in the knowledge that I'm doing everything I can for my family. And not only am I doing the right thing, but I love being a mom. It's my dream job! It's my favorite thing in the world! I couldn't even begin to fathom walking away from it!
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