We live in a time when so much is possible. There are so many technological advances and loads of new opportunities. It seems like everyone has some secret to “success,” and there is always something more you should be doing.
Wake up earlier. Drink more water. Exercise this way or that way or this long. Spend more time focusing on the kids. Make sure you do enough self-care. Pay off your debt. Do more service. Travel the world. Don’t spoil the kids. Get more sleep. Go on more date nights. Spend one-on-one time with the kids. Keep the house clean. Make more money. Eat healthier. Keep up on the laundry. Grocery shop. Cook. Learn new skills. Cultivate your kids’ hobbies. Make time for your own hobbies…
The list goes on and on and on. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. It’s so darn easy to feel like you’re not doing enough. I remember being a kid and genuinely not knowing what to do with myself except maybe read a book. Now it doesn’t matter the time or day, there is ALWAYS something else I’m supposed to be doing or getting started on. ALWAYS.
On top of all of that, I have depression. My mind is constantly telling me I’m not enough and not doing enough. That I’ll never be enough.
When I open Facebook or Instagram and see motivational quotes about chasing your dreams, overcoming fears, and challenging yourself, I feel worse. What does it mean that I can barely get myself out of bed to get my kids breakfast and start refereeing them? That I struggle to find the motivation to empty the dishwasher or put the groceries away?
I know taking care of my kids is important, obviously. But sometimes I feel like I’m “wasting” my days away doing housework.
Here’s what I’ve realized. As much as I would love to be one of those people out there grinding to reach my goals, that’s not where I am today. As much as I would love to be publishing a novel, making a full-time income from home, or losing all the weight I’ve put on in the last six years, that’s not where my life is right now.
I am in a season of survival. I’ve hated to admit that to myself because my children are five and nearly three. I don’t have a newborn I’m up with all hours of the night. My husband doesn’t work out of town three weeks a month anymore. My son no longer has a g-tube or therapies. I feel like from the outside it shouldn’t seem like a survival period.
But from the outside you can’t see the anxiety and depression. You can’t see how much it takes for me just to function everyday. So here’s the deal: It’s okay to be in a state of survival, and it’s okay if no one else understands that. It’s okay to simply make it from one day to the next. Someday I hope to be in a place where I can reach for goals and make dreams come true. Someday.
