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When someone with depression say they are tired, exhausted, overwhelmed, or struggling, the assumption is often that they want to quit. That they are looking for an escape. That they want to walk away from their responsibilities, and honestly, fuck some days that thought does cross my mind for a second. But it does not mean that IS what I want, it means I am human, a human with struggles and flaws.
For me, however, it is not that simple, to just walk away, because I do not want to give up.
I do not want to stop being a parent. I do not want to stop caring about my children and being their support and everything else they need me to be for them. I do not want to stop fighting for my little but significant career that has become so much more than just a business. And mostly I do not want to stop showing up for the people who depend on me, although some days I honestly wish I did not have anyone depending on me. Does this make me a bad person? Maybe, or maybe just someone who is so overwhelmed by life, that the thought of disappearing sounds like the best escape from reality. To just be, me, alone, not a care in the world. Alone in a space where I can just breathe and not feel like I am suffocating by all my responsibility consuming all the oxygen around me, and leave me gasping for air.
Reality is, I want a break, not a holiday to a tropical island, sightseeing, and taking breathtaking photographs of the sun setting over the ocean, with crystal blue waters, and ocean life, not only because that is not the break I need, not just because I would not last in the plane that long due to my crippling claustrophobia, also not a weekend away that ends before I have even begun to exhale. What I do want is a break from carrying the weight of absolutely everything and everyone, all of the time, partly because I have conditioned myself that I am responsible, my sole purpose on this earth is to take care of everyone. Was I born this way? or was I forced into a situation whereas a small child I became the saviour, the peacemaker, the one that would do anything to just have peace.
But I continue to juggle every personality and responsibility I have.
As a mom, I do not have a magical switch that turns off the responsibility. Even when I am exhausted, my children still need me. Their lives continue moving forward whether I have the mental capacity to keep up or not. This is not just from a physical and emotional perspective, but also other realities. My son’s birthday is coming up, and instead of simply enjoying the excitement and anticipation that should come with celebrating him, part of my mind is occupied by numbers, budgets, and worries. Can I make it special? Can I afford it? Will I somehow make it work? “Everyone around me” “you always make it work; you always figure it out” But at which point will I no longer be able to make a plan? be able to figure it out? Have to be stuck in a situation where I even have to try and make a plan. Fuck, it is exhausting, because it became a part of my identity, and people rely on the fact that I will make it happen. With that being said, he is the most amazing child, who is kind and understanding, he deserves to have his special day celebrated. I know he will be understanding and happy with what I do for him, but the guilt would still eat at me, because as his mom, it is my duty.
Then there is the financial stress, taking care of my daughters’ school fees, skip one month, pay late or short pay, and she will never be able to return, because of me, because I have failed her. I already had to do the hardest thing I ever had to do and ask, and accept help, to have her remain in the place that is good for her. With that the responsibility of showing up for her, being on the side lines of her soccer matches, ensuring she receives couching, so she can become the best version of herself, and support her hobbies and dreams, while at the same time keeping her safe, and keeping up with her very active social life. Should I cut down on what she wants to do? Hell fucking no. My children will be given every opportunity that I can possibly give them. They are my life, my purpose for pushing on, my reason why I will never cross the line again of attempting to taking my own life.
Then there is my little business, it is not just a workplace. It is a community, a responsibility, and a collection of little faces that deserve stability and care. Yet behind the scenes are the realities that most people never see. Outstanding fees. Financial pressure. Difficult conversations. Parents who expect understanding for their circumstances while sometimes forgetting that the school has circumstances too.!!! When you become the enemy because you are asking for what is due to you? When you have to beg, and beg, and beg. I don’t even like asking for anything, imagine me in a situation where I have to beg. You might as well pull my toenails out with pliers. Shitty example though, as I would probably enjoy the physical pain. It is more bearable than emotional pain. Every unpaid fee becomes another bill that still needs to be paid. Every child removed without notice creates another hole that somehow needs to be filled. Every difficult interaction takes a little more energy from a tank that is already running so close to empty that the fuel warning light is even doing a facepalm.
And still, the expectation remains that I smile, remain professional, remain compassionate, and keep everything running smoothly. Like always, wear that fucking mask.
Most days, I do but carrying everyone else’s worries while trying to hide your own is exhausting, and that is where the danger come in, because when I reach that point, I sometimes loose perspective, and the dark side gets revealed. The side I do not have control over, the one that turns me into a manipulative bitch, because I finally lost my shit. The one people use to change the stories, to me being the problem, to make themselves feel better. But forgetting what pushed me to that point in the first place.
And then there is my marriage. Perhaps this is the part that is the hardest to admit out loud, especially as I know my husband will be reading this, and a lot of it I have not been able to verbalise in person.
When life becomes overwhelming, couples often talk about the practical pressures. Bills, work, children, WHAT THE FUCK IS FOR DINNER, (me instantly in a bad mood, my most hated sentence, because really, who the hell decided that we have to think about that every single day, for the rest of our lives) all these responsibilities. What is not spoken about enough is what happens to a marriage when one or both people are simply running on empty?
That is where the issue lies, somewhere between the responsibilities, the financial stress, the constant problem solving, and the never-ending demands of daily life, I have started to feel emotionally disconnected. Not because I want to be. Not because I have stopped caring. But because I am exhausted. When you spend all day carrying everyone else’s needs, eventually there is very little left of you to bring into your marriage. Conversations become short and only discussions that are necessary. Affection becomes an afterthought, if that is even what I want, because I am overstimulated, and do not want to be touched. I just want to be left alone, to just take a moment to be, to not be responsible for anything. The connection we ones had gets pushed down the priority list while survival takes centre stage. Where I used to be the one taking centres stage. I miss that version of me, but she has been buried many years ago, along with my innocence, and growing up to soon. One day you realise you feel lonely while sitting right next to the person that is supposed to not make you feel lonely. In reality, what you need is not another solution, another plan, or another discussion about what needs to be done, no more counselling, no more fighting, no more begging, no more taking responsibility for someone else’s actions. Because I just can’t. They say when the fighting stops, is when everything stops. Because what you needed from him at this point: You need someone to truly see you. To notice that you are struggling without being told. To ask how you are and genuinely want the answer or not push for an answer and just be there. To step in and carry some of the emotional weight for a while, without having to be asked, to show up.
Because I feel as though I am constantly showing up for everyone else. For the children, for my business (although it is my responsibility) For the school parents, for the staff (although I am truly blessed with amazing people) for my family, for him.
And somewhere along the way, I have found myself quietly wondering who is showing up for me? I know he has his own struggles. I know he carries burdens I cannot always see. Life has not been easy on either of us. But it remains his responsibility to take accountability for his struggles, to, like me make daily decision to be the best you can be, to work with your team, to help you, and to accept the fact that you need help.
There are moments when I wish I did not have to be the strong one. Moments when I wish I did not have to explain how exhausted I am before someone noticed. Moments when I wish someone would simply take my hand and say, “I have got this for a while, you can rest.” The truth is that I do not need perfection. I do not need grand gestures. I do not need someone to magically fix everything. I just need to feel like there are two people carrying the weight instead of one. I need to feel like someone is fighting for me with the same determination that I fight for everyone else. Is this the loneliness nobody talks about? The loneliness that comes from being surrounded by people who need you while quietly wishing someone would need less from you and give a little more back? Being surrounded by people, yet feel so, so alone.
What people don’t often understand about burnout is that it is not always dramatic. Sometimes it looks like carrying on. Sometimes it looks like showing up every day while quietly wondering how much longer you can keep doing it.
It can look like having only a few stolen minutes to yourself, doom scrolling, between responsibilities. A few moments alone in the car, with no noise, no one around (frightening that this feels less lonely) in the car before walking into work or home. A cup of coffee that goes cold because something else needed my attention, or I spaced out, purely out of exhaustion. And then a few quiet moments at night when everyone else is asleep and the weight of the day finally catches up with me.
These moments have become precious, needed and addictive, maybe even more addictive than my coffee problem. As those are a few moments, I seem to have that belong entirely to me.
I do not want to give up, I do not want to walk away, I do not want to stop caring, I do not want to stop being one kick ass mom, who despite my flaws will try my utmost to put my children first, I do not want to stop fighting for my business, my staff, my family and the life I have worked so hard to build. Even though it is pretty much a scene straight out of Jurassic Park.
I just want a moment to put down the weight, to breathe without feeling guilty for taking up too much space and oxygen, to rest without feeling guilty, to exist without being responsible for fixing something or someone, even myself. A moment to allow myself to fail.
Is this what so many of us are really asking for? Not an escape, not a give up I surrender.
Just enough space to remember who we are underneath all the responsibilities we carry.
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