Things I’ll Never Say

 Yes, I do have my dream job, that is, being able to stay at home with my children, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. It’s hard! Tiring and so emotionally draining. It is the hardest job I have ever had and I do need a break, one that I never seem to get. 

I realize I have no alarm clock to wake up to, or a schedule to follow on someone else watch, but I am tired. A baby who still doesn’t sleep through the night does equal exhaustion. It would be nice to sleep in every now and then. Everyone else gets to do it at least twice a week.

I realize your work is tiring and demanding, but please imagine what mine must be like when I literally do it 24/7. That’s right, even when I am sleeping, my boss is in charge and I am on the clock. 

I make mistakes often, and I hate myself for them. My mind replays them over and over again and I literally make myself crazy until I find a solution that allows me to give myself a break.

I long to do something for me, without being interrupted by anyone for any reason. A simple request for cereal is like nails on a chalkboard sometimes. 

I hate going through my day being reminded to be careful, from driving safe, to walking down the stairs with my baby. I am capable, and I have no desire to be reckless and hurt my children. 

I am not a child. I do not need to be reminded to do things. I do not need to be coached.

I am resentful of decisions I feel like I have no control over and therefore have to suffer the consequences of.

When I am sick, or in pain and in need of love and care, I am never given any, but always expected to dish it out when those who I love need it. I want to feel important and to have my needs justified. 

I am tired of being told not to spend too much money. If anyone is aware of current situations and how to make a little go a long way, it is me, I mean look at who my mother is. 

I want my disease to be recognized and helped, rather than talked down upon and being coddled into not feeling the way I feel. I know that I am crazy, but for heaven’s sake I do not need you telling me that I am! I want to get better, but pretending that the problem isn’t there does not make it go away, it only makes it worse. I need help and encouragement. I want help and encouragement. Reassurance that I am still me and I am still loved and accepted. 

I am tired of being the butt of jokes. Most times they are just funny, and even though we are close, words still hurt just as much as they did in Kindergarten.

Listening to those I love sleep, while I lay awake and uncomfortable, kept awake by the anxiety in my chest, I resent the peace I have yet to know in so many months.

I wish I was told that I was doing a good job, that I was appreciated, because it would do wonders for my self esteem.