Holding It All Together

I’m holding myself up — every single day. 

Balancing work, home, and kids like a juggler who can’t afford to drop a ball. 

I stay strong because I have to be. There’s no other option. 

But somewhere in this strength, exhaustion is quietly creeping in.

Lately, I find myself irritated more often. 

I lose patience with my kids, even when they’re just being kids — playful, noisy, and full of life. 

I scold them, and the guilt that follows is heavy. 

I know they deserve better, but I feel so drained that I can’t seem to help it. 

I’m not proud of these moments, but they are real.

And sometimes — just once in a while — I want to disappear.

 Not forever. Just long enough to breathe. 

To go someplace where no one knows me, no one expects anything from me, 

and I don't have to be responsible for anyone or anything.

I want silence, not just around me, but within me. 

I want my mind to go still — no thoughts, no lists, no worries — just me, present in the moment.

I imagine myself sitting on a quiet shore, watching the waves roll in and out.

 No noise, no chaos — just the rhythm of the sea and my own heartbeat.

 In that moment, I’m not a mother, not a worker, not a caretaker.

 I’m just a woman, existing, feeling the wind on my face.

 And in that simplicity, I find a glimpse of peace… of happiness.

I don’t want to escape my life.

 I just want a pause — a moment to rest before I pick everything up again.