weary and worn

It devours my energy, the leap from stressor to stressor, until I collapse in a heap of tears and exhaustion.

We moved house. I’ve been having a lot of contractions. The baby isn’t due for over six more weeks.

My 2 year old has developed a shrieking habit. We’re still working on the hitting phase.

We are self pay for everything. Health insurance is no longer a viable option for us. We just can’t afford it since the ACA kicked in.

Still, I’m taking my son to a pediatric speech therapist. Looking for a new pediatrician and realizing that he needs to see a pediatric dentist, though I never anticipated that need. Because we practice good hygiene and are careful to use high quality products (and I’m constantly focused on nutrition research), I did not anticipate the need for dental medical expenses. My son has a high, narrow palate, despite my constant attempts to give the best we can afford nutritionally; it’s mainly genetic. It’s affecting his speech, hearing and breathing. It breaks my heart and my bank.

I’m worn, worn, worn. God promises rest for the weary. But I don’t know how to access it right now.

I just want to stop everything for a few days and make the world wait while I catch up.

I feel behind, and overwhelmed. I feel like I’m trapped in a hamster wheel and all I do is run, run, run, until I can’t run anymore.

Well-meaning people sometimes make things worse in their attempts to help.

This makes me angry, but I feel like I can’t show it. So it boils over when I’m alone.

It’s an ugly place to be.

God, help me.

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weary and worn

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