This is my brutal truth:
I have no ideas for anyone for Christmas. Like, literally no one. My mom. My husband. My own children.
I don’t want to do this.
Can we just fast forward a few months so I don’t have to deal with the anxiety and pressure of cleaning and decorating and cooking and wrapping?! I’m hyperventilating and feel like my only identity right now is servant and my head hurts and I just can’t. If I give 100% of myself at school (which is apparently not enough and I need to somehow move faster and do more and be more and expect less… somehow), and 100% of myself to my family who think I’m insane or just feeling sorry for myself, and 100% to all the people in my life and 100% to maintaining a household and where is there room to breathe?! I don’t have balance. I don’t even know what balance looks like. I have several unfolded laundry baskets and dirty hair and dust everywhere and clutter and 12 things to return to Amazon, but no balance.
And I have people I love dearly who are struggling. People who are dealing with far more than they should ever have to in a lifetime. And I feel as though I can’t help; I can’t lend a shoulder or an ear or a hand to help because I’m drowning and my own life vest is floating out to sea.