“I’m Tired.”

“I’m just tired.”

When people ask you what’s wrong, that’s what you say.

You say I’m tired.

Like you just didn’t get enough sleep last night. Like maybe if you get a couple extra hours tonight, or rest up this weekend, you’ll be better on Monday.

But deep down, deep beneath all the fake smiles and the jokes you make to lighten the mood, you know that’s not it.

You might be tired, yes, but you know sleep won’t fix it.

Because it’s life you’re tired of. You’re tired of getting lost in your own head, of drowning in the thoughts and self doubts that pester you every second of every day, while you fight to keep your head above the tides.

Those same tides that threaten to wash away the makeup you carefully paint on every day so you look more like a person and less like a hollow shell of who you used to be.

Can’t they see that what you’re really tired of is pretending? How do they not notice that your porcelain smile is chipping more every day, your body armor has dents in it, your face paint is running, and the rivers in your eyes are bursting the dams you so carefully construct so as not to drown everyone around you.

So when they ask you, “Are you OK?” you just say “I’m tired.” Because you believe it’s the only way to keep them safe as you self-destruct on the inside, the only way to protect them from the disaster that is you. You believe you have to lie so the ones you love don’t look too close.

But you’re so, so tired.

And that’s OK. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that it’s OK to be tired sometimes. “Normal,” even. And you don’t always have to have a reason. Because sometimes just keeping it together is exhausting.

When you feel like this, it’s important to know you’re not alone. You are not the only one who feels this way.

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“I’m Tired.”

To You, the Self Doubter.

To you, the mum sitting in the waiting room of your child’s doctor’s office. You’re waiting on your child’s latest test results. You’ve done this a hundred times before, but your stomach is still in knots. Your hands are fidgety. This never gets easier. You’re scared and you feel alone. Your eyes scan the room as you admire the other mums who are calm, reading books to their children. You suddenly feel guilty. I should be reading, too, you scold yourself. Then it happens. The nurse at the door calls your name. It’s your turn. You panic because you’re not ready to hear the news. You swallow the lump in your throat and walk through the door. You begin to wonder what’s wrong with you. 

To you, who feels brave enough to take your child for a walk in the park or maybe even to a local play area, only to feel overwhelming anxiety about all of the able children around you with all of their able parents watching wondering why you’re signing to your child, why your child isn’t running around and playing, wondering why you’re single handedly trying to manoeuvre each of your lanky almost-4 year olds limbs into a baby swing while pretending to have a good time when really all you want is to run.

Time and time again, we question ourselves and struggle with our own decisions, and carry the weight of the consequences. We’re constantly criticizing ourselves. Is there something wrong with you because you worry endlessly? No, it’s because you love them. Are you abnormal because you feel isolated, tired and scared? No, you feel all of that, and no one blames you. 

So here’s to you, the mum who deserves a thousand praises for loving and fighting for their child endlessly.

To you, the mum whose fears never shadow their courage to try.

To you, the mum who’s doing everything right and doesn’t even know it.

You’re not alone — I see you, I am you. 

To You, the Self Doubter.

A Heart Full of Love.

You miss the things I haven’t done,
the goals not scored, or races won.
The steps my feet have never walked,
the words my lips have never talked.
In my wide eyes you know my fear.
You take my hand and hold me near.
In children, all around you see, the child that I may never be.
Not so able, tough or agile, often tired and much more fragile.
You see the tears I’ve often cried, and cried them with me, side by side.
Your heart is heavy for my trials, but you wear it well,
with weathered smiles.
I know that you know, I am enough.
But I know the bad days can be tough.
You thank the world for giving me to you,
but you’re sad for all I cannot do,
and not because you feel let down my me,
but you can’t help wonder how I’d be.
If I could do what others do,
like ride a bike or run to you.
You think of all the things I’ll miss
first dance, first love,
first date, first kiss.
Yet here I am, as I should be,
not missing out on being me.
Do not fret or worry so
and make your spirit tired with woe.
And when those nights are feeling longer,
lean on me until you’re stronger.
Hold my little hand in yours,
peacefully we’ll pass the hours.
For all we have is one another,
special child and care worn mother.
Nothing matters more you see,
than seeing all the life in me.
I don’t need to be able to,
do the things that others do.
See the words I do not say,
in the smiles I give you everyday.
When I’m tired let me rest,
with my little head against your chest
and for that moment in that peace,
let your loving worries cease.
Look at what I can achieve,
and celebrate me, do not grieve.
Please do not be sad because,
I’m not the child I never was.
Different isn’t less you know,
and you’re the one who told me so.
And somedays will be hard to take.
And you’ll feel as though your heart might break.
But we’ll bounce back,
we always do.
Because you’ve got me and I’ve got you ❤️

A Heart Full of Love.