Life passions are interesting, at least for me. I often feel like my passions fizzle out. I will take up a hobby one year and the next, I’m over it.
It’s amazing I homeschooled as long as I did (12 years to be exact).
I realize that I’m burned out. I probably have been for several years. Currently, I can’t handle a lot emotionally speaking. I turn into a useless ball of tears in the midst of conflict. I don’t hold on to hope. Sometimes I wish I’d get an incurable disease so the decision would be made for me. I just get tired of the fight.
You know… The fight. Always battling the words people say, my own emotions, my introverted and sensitive nature. I often don’t feel fit for such a harsh world. I don’t fit in with most women. I’m 40 and still don’t have a tribe. I’m starting to think that term is BS.
I realize I’m an irrational weirdo but life just has never felt easy. It’s always wrought with conflict. And now my kids have their own and I feel like I have to handle theirs too.
I recently told people I was done homeschooling. The question then becomes, “oh, then what are you doing next year?” I feel a sense of laziness because my plan is to do very little. I’m going to work from home 10 hours a week then pick up my kids from school. That’s about it.
Oh I could go rush back into full time employment but like I said, I’m burned out. I’m cynical, irritable, depressed, and don’t enjoy being around many people. The signs of burn out include isolation and moodiness. The remedy is rest and support. So I’m planning a year of just that.
People don’t realize the emotional toll I’ve had to deal with. I homeschooled one child on the spectrum, another with a mental health problem, and another who got lost in the mix. I didn’t keep up with their schooling and now I feel a sense of failure. I should’ve done more. But I was unable.
The year I had last year included several visits to the ER, mental health therapy on a weekly basis, partial hospitalization, doctor visits, psychiatry visits, physical therapy, surgery, eye and dental visits, and conflict almost everyday. It was comparable to being in combat. I wondered if it would ever end. I still do.
Although things are a little better, I don’t know what this year will bring. But I know my soul has taken a beating. I know I need a break.
I’ve lost any passions I had for life. My motivation for art has dwindled. While I love my kids, I think they stress me out too much. I need to find the things that don’t cause me anxiety. I’m not even sure what that is anymore.
There is guilt in admitting I need a break. In admitting motherhood is a drag. Because I always prided myself on being a mom, it feels like I am losing my identity. They’ll all be away from me next year. I’m scared of what being alone all day might do.
But it’s a phase. I’m hoping after some time, I’ll bounce back. Maybe I’ll find a new hobby. Maybe I’ll meet new people. Maybe I’ll feel hope again.
I’ll still be dealing with stress because life never hands us complete peace. We still have responsibilities. We can’t completely check out. But I know I can’t keep going full speed like I have been either.
It’s ok to quit. Sometimes quitting leads to new adventures. Or so I hope.