Cycle Of Life?

How can you tell if you are just stuck in a rut of life or if you’re just allowing yourself to rot in toxic environment?

Everyone hates their job. Everyone gets yelled at. Everyone gets cursed out. Everyone wants to not be doing what they’re doing at one point or another in their jobs. But when does it become something you actually have to move on from? When does it become more detrimental than just something that can be tolerated? “When it begins crossing over into your personal life”, some may say.  But what if it was like that way to begin with and it was just the nature of the type of job it is? Working from home should not equal being on call 24/7, but this job is. This field is nonstop and every changing. And I have to conscious of that. Except nobody told me that when I signed up for this. I just got tacked on with more and more responsibilities.. which is apparently the norm of the jobs I think. But when I get cursed out and yelled at by every employee we have every single day and butt heads with my coworker? I feel like it has crossed over into a toxic environment. My boss is not much of a boss, and I am not much of an employee. Nobody knows their roles which equals too many hands in the pot when it comes to problem solving. Too many people blaming each other. Too many people throwing their hands up and becoming frustrated at the situation and redirecting their anger towards each other.

I am miserable. From my whole living situation to my job. I am upset with allowing myself to feel marginalized by others. I feel idiotic to be in a place where I feel useless and worthless. Maybe this is just a mom thing and every other mother goes through this train of thought at one point or another. But why do I feel like not wanting to repeat this day after day? Is that also a mom thing? Is this a postpartum thing? I feel like everyone would just be so much better off without my idiotic butt in the mix. I feel like if I were just able to get out of everyone’s way their lives would be much, much lighter.

I’m gaining so much weight. I’m a failure as a student. I’m a failure as a wife. I’m a failure as a mother. I’m a failure as a daughter. I’m a failure as a sister. I’m a failure as an employee. I’m a failure as a Christian. I just want a win somewhere.

I think I read somewhere that the best place to go to Him is when you’re at your lowest and darkest. He is the Light and the Way. I remember someone from church stating that in the midst of a confusing time, she spent more time with God. She had more one on one time with Him rather than worrying about the other things in her life, and surprisingly things started happening. She got a great new job and she was happier than she was in months. Maybe I just haven’t hit that deep dark yet, but, man, it’s pretty dark where I am. I think I just don’t know where to start, and I don’t have much of a support system emotionally. Maybe I just need to make that baby step on my own. Maybe this is my solo dive into myself since I never really did that in the past. Maybe this is where I get to know who I am.

Thus Begins The Descent

I feel like I’m going crazy. Let’s be real. I am going crazy.

Blame it on the lack of sleep. Blame it on the kids. Blame it on the lack of adult communication. But I don’t think I’m okay. I don’t know if I ever was okay. Not only am I in a constant crisis of searching for an identity, I am actually not sure if I ever had one. As I delve deeper into this social psychology class, I don’t even know if I identify with a group which apparently is super important in evolving as a person.

I had yet another melt down today. Except this time I actually thought about running away. Seriously. I thought about packing a bag and going to the gym for a few hours to clear my head since running away to Bora Bora wasn’t an option. I’m just so sick and tired of repeating my days and my words over and over and over again to these kids. It’s as if they’re falling on deaf ears. And, before you say it, I know. I know this is what being a parent is all about. Tolerating them through their mistakes and growing pains until they get it right. But that feels like it’ll happen in five billion light years. I’m tired of being on-call every single minute, every single second of every day. Seriously.

You turn around for one second and Dom has his hands on scissors. You turn around to handle that and Shane has taken off his pants and diaper. You turn around to take care of that issue and Dom has gotten a hold of a car track and chasing Donte around the living room trying to hit him over the head. You handle that and Shane has climbed a chair to try to get to the leftover Goldfish and smoothie on the table. You get him off safely and Dom is now climbing the hubby’s computer chair and pounding away on the keys. I’m just really, really, really tired. Tired of life. Tired of existing solely to have eyes on two danger-loving toddlers who seem to love going diaper-less but are not yet potty trained. All day. From the second their little eyes open to the very long hours their little bodies finally fall asleep.

I’m just tired of answering the same questions from my parents about the kids and life. I’m tired of justifying every aspect of my life to my parents. I’m tired of saying “I’m okay” when I’m really not only because there’s nothing anybody can really do to help. I’m tired of constantly feeling like I’m failing at life. I’m tired of feeling like I’m just wasting everyone’s time and energy in existing when I fail as a mother, wife, and daughter. Every few days or so, I end up going to a really dark place which has been taking me longer and longer to get out of. But during those good few days, they’re great. They remind me why I love where I am. They remind me that these moments too shall pass. They remind me that if I can just get through those dark patches, I will come back and continue fighting through the obscurity that is this stage of life.

But I guess for now I’ll just keep praying that He gives me the strength to make it through these

Guilty

So our dog is acting up. I’ve been switching his feed times from anywhere between 12pm – 4pm and I think he’s not doing the best dealing with the changes. He’s been having accidents in the house; peeing and pooping. He’s been nervous around other people again and he’s been antsy. I haven’t been taking him out as often as we used to. We take him out in the morning, after his lunch, and after his dinner meals; 6a, 3p, and around 11p. Recently, we’ve been working around home health visits, doctor appointments, and other such activities. Baby Shane’s feeding times have been all over the place. Baby Cody’s feeds and walks have been all over the place. Baby Donte was without food for a full day because we didn’t have time to get to the pet store and get his dry food. I know I should be getting back to the basics and put together a routine for all the babies, but it’s so difficult. I set a routine and I don’t wake up on time and throw off the entire day. Sometimes I’m just exhausted. Sometimes the babies start spitting up, chasing squirrels, refuse to go to the bathroom, are feeling lazy, or being just plain butt-facey. Even with the dog having accidents everywhere, I feel like a failure. I know it’s my fault. Ultimately, I’m the one who is responsible for them. I should be the one who takes care of them, makes sure that things like this doesn’t happen. I feel like a failure when my baby cries because of a soiled diaper or because he’s just fussy and wants to be held. I feel like a failure when my cat is rubbing up all over me because he feels neglected and ignored. I feel like a failure when the dog is chasing the cat because he isn’t getting enough stimulation and feels cooped up at home with all his pent up adolescent energy. I feel like a failure because I feel like I have to stay home and make sure Shane attends to all his doctor’s appointments and is getting enough stimulation for developmental growth. I feel like I can’t continue school because I have a 2.0 GPA and I am being forced to step out of the program until I can raise it back up to a 2.5. I feel like a failure as a wife because I’m not making money and not contributing financially. I can’t cook too well. I can’t clean very well. I’m a procrastinator. I’m exhausted all the time. I feel like I’m a failure for feeling like a failure. I know I can’t juggle everything, but I can’t help feeling like I should. Are my standards too high for myself or am I just feeling everything others feel? Either way, I’m guilty of being a failure. At everything.