I’m at the end of my rope! My dad used to say that all the time. So much that it lost its meaning over time even if he had good reason to be hanging on to that rope’s end. Now I am at the end of the my rope. Nothing has happened to put me there, just life. I’m tired, so tired.

Midlife Crisis?

 

It may be a midlife crisis, it may be that I am sick of cleaning up after children who can’t seem to pick up after themselves and I am too tired to throw a fit to get their attention. It might be that I am tired of tripping over a dog that is terrified of thunderstorms and we live in tornado alley. It could be that when he is scared he has accidents and I am really tired of cleaning those up.

It could be that my ex husband hasn’t spent time with our daughter in going on two years now and I need a weekend to myself. It could be that I have no idea who I am anymore afraid that I am just someone who cooks and cleans and works so I can buy things for others.

It could be that I am tired of working and want to work for myself now. I am still blogging but for others. I never update my blog anymore and I miss that so much. I want to write for me not for others.

Recharge

Whatever it is I am in need of recharging my batteries. This is something my dad used to say a lot too. He was often in need of a battery recharge and would traipse off to Mexico with his friends while I stayed home and took care of my mother. I can’t go off to Mexico on a whim and if I could I don’t have any friends that could go with me.

I don’t leave the house except to run errands, visit my mother and take my daily walk so I hit 10k steps each day even though that isn’t helping me lose any weight at all.

I don’t sleep well. According to my Fitbit I wake up 11- 13 times per night! Most of those is letting the dog in and out because he is old and letting the cat in and out because she is a retched bitch who hates me. I know, I should ignore them both but if I do the dogs pees on the couch and the cat meows so loud she wakes the dead.

FML

I want someone to care for me who I didn’t give birth to. I don’t want to burden my kids with my sense of being overwhelmed. It isn’t their problem and they don’t need the added stress. I miss my father. I could call him and unload my troubles and feel a whole lot better for just having said them. He couldn’t do much about them and would often feel compelled to compete with me as to has it harder but having someone to spill it all to would be nice.

I’m hoping to take the daughter to Wisconsin Dells next month and I am looking forward to it but it’s not the kind of vacation I need. I need to be alone for a couple of days. I need to not be worried about anyone but myself while I try to put things back together. I need to know that while I am gone all hell isn’t breaking lose. I need my kids to grow up faster than they are currently doing it.

As it is right now anything could set me over the edge. Yesterday the thought of setting the table for dinner was more than I could handle. I did it but it was painful. I’ll get through this, I always do. These episodes seem to be coming more often, like a wave that recedes only to gain force and slam back into the beach. I need a break, I need a mom, I need a hug.