Struggles

Some days I don’t know how to deal with this.

Some days I struggle with keeping the issues with the other adults away from the kids.

I struggle to pretend everything is fine when the kids know it’s not.

I struggle with my new life, building and growing, paying bills, going about the day and knowing that you’re not ready to make the changes.

It’s the behind the scenes stuff. The stuff we don’t share.

The things I have zero power over. Those things that aren’t up to me. Those are hard. And there is no point worrying, dwelling or talking. It is what it is.

Mostly, it’s not like that. Mostly it’s laughter, light, fun and love.

But sometimes I wish someone knew.

Do you get tired of keeping things clean, organising, feeding, supporting? Tired of driving? Tired of keeping them safe and healthy, of talking and listening, tired of trying to get the help?

Some days I don’t want to hear it.

Some days leaving feels like a life sentence. Some days it’s the system. The choices, the drugs. The helplessness is the worst.

But, mostly I am grateful. For the wonderful life I have.

It’s the days that I struggle that I step back, shut it all down and care for me. So I can continue to care for others.

 

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