Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Just Not the Same. . .

I just don't feel like myself when I don't write.  There is something so therapeutic about writing, at least for me.  It is a way to take all of the thoughts and feelings that I have and put them down where I can read them in black and white.  A place where I can examine the words and understand a little bit more about what they mean and how I feel.  

I have had a lot of changes in my life the last several months.  So what else is new, right?  But some of the changes have really made me stop and think about who I really am and what path my life is supposed to take.  Even at the age of 42, I still don't feel like I have life figured out.  Maybe I never will.

Over the past 6 months, I have had to learn how to be a full-time working mom again.  This transition has not been easy.  The guilt I have felt about not being here for my kids has been powerful.  Sometimes all consuming.  I feel like even though they are not little kids that I am still abandoning them in some way. I am no longer here when they come home.  I am no longer available for them during the day.  If they forget lunch money, oh well.  If they forgot their homework, too bad.  The worst part is knowing that my youngest is home every single day for several hours after school until someone else gets home.  I realize that he is not a baby, but I just hate that I am not here.  The other side to the guilt is the fact that even when I am here, I am so emotionally and physically drained that I am no good as their mother even when I am home.  I hate it.  I really need to find some kind of balance in my life.  I long for it.

It is kind of funny because I remember having such a struggle 19 years ago when I quit working to stay at home and raise my kids.  I REALLY struggled the first several months.  I had been working full time since I was 16 years old and to all of a sudden be a stay-at-home mom was a shock to my system.  There were times when I would sit and cry because I just wanted to get out of the house and have a break so bad I couldn't stand it.  There were months when I really wanted to go back to work.  After a while I settled in and realized that being home was where I wanted and more importantly needed to be.  I always figured I would go back to school at some point and start working again, but that seemed so far away.  Now here I am working again and wishing I could go back to staying home.  Why is it the grass always seems to be greener on the other side?

I am hoping that I will settle into a working routine again soon and that the guilt will subside.  I know we need the extra income and I know I have student loans that need to be paid off, so I will somehow make it work.  I think that it won't be so bad if I could just figure out how to work less hours each week.  Work has consumed my life to the point where I have no life besides my work.  It is all encompassing and I miss having a life outside of my job.  I have literally worked 6-7 days a week since August.  I am frustrated.  I am burned out.

The other part of the changes in my life is what I like to refer to as "family drama".  I won't mince words here:  family drama sucks!  Besides the fact that work is consuming me, I have had to deal with this roller coaster of emotions on the family drama train and I really need off the ride.  As horrible as it sounds, I just don't have it in me to play the games and to be sucked into the drama that has been created by a really stupid situation.  Life is too short to be in a constant state of upheaval and drama.  I just don't want any part of it.  I would rather wash my hands of the situation and move on then to play into the drama and the games.  It may sound harsh, but I just cannot continue to be hurt over and over again.  At some point enough is enough.  The lies have to stop.  The talking about each other behind each others backs needs to end.  Holding onto the past and bringing it up over and over needs to quit.  Oh, and by the way, just for the record, I am not the person I was at age 12, or 15, or even age 30.  None of you have gotten to know me in many, many years, so please do not make assumptions about who I am or what I may or may not feel or be thinking.  You really don't even know me, and you have chosen NOT to know the real me.  You know a person who you think I was many years ago, not the person I am today.

Whew!  That was a lot of unloading!  I guess that is what happens when you keep so much bottled up inside for such a long period of time.

I realize that everything I wrote is just for me.  It won't benefit anyone else, but boy does it feel good to let it out.