The Hours Of The Day

The long and the short of it is, I feel like I have less time than everyone else, and my time is less efficient.

Even on my medication, I've been needing a nap in the middle of the day. I woke up this morning from ten hours of sleep, and even then, I had to drag myself out of bed. I could go back right now and sleep another ten.

I'm still always tired, and with my anti-stress medication, doing anything outside of my routine takes a lot of energy. My stress is dulled, and so is my motivation, and so is my joy.

With everything pared away, what's routine for me?

Cleaning the house is routine. Doing the laundry is routine. Reading books is routine. Making dinner is routine. Being kind is routine. Going to the gym is routine. Talking to my brothers is routine.

I'm coming to a sort of acceptance that having children has essentially stopped my life in its tracks. They drain me completely whenever they fight, which happens all of the time. I will not come out of this stronger. I will come out of this changed. My health is worse because of it, my stress is worse because of it.

But after nearly a decade of this, I think I'm okay.

I like who I am, even when my light is dimmer than it was, when I have to hide from my kids. I can still feel happy every now and then, and I know I'm lucky to have Jessi.

I know that in many years, I'll be wondering where the years went, how I aged so much while only having half the hours of the day that everyone else has, and I think I'll probably hold that grief for the rest of my life.

Crash Boy flinging his backpack at me. It hurts!

Daniel passing out programs at the 5th grade musical. He prefers to work behind the scenes, and I love him.

These snugglebugs are playing videogames on the couch, and I love that this is somehow comfortable for them.