Waiting For the End…or the Beginning

With 2 weeks left in this year, I’m desperate for the year to be over.

I’m exhausted. I’m overwhelmed. I miss hugging the people I love. I miss…..everything. I miss normalcy. I miss the way it used to be.

Too often I feel miserable!

Not the sad, despondent kind of misery but the angry, annoyed, grouchy kind of miserable.

It doesn’t really make sense to be wishing this year away because between December 31, 2020 and January 1, 2021 nothing magical will have changed. There will be no “returning to normal.”

I think what I’m desperately seeking is HOPE.

Hope that things will be better.
Hope that things will get easier.
Hope that things will change.

I’m so tired of “holding it together”.
I want to cry when my kids start to squabble.
I want to send them to their rooms just so I won’t have to muster up the energy to help them navigate their own feelings of exhaustion and stress.

I want to be on a beach, in the sun, doing nothing.
I want a magically clean house.
I want time to be able to take care of my responsibilities.
And the energy to actually do them.

I want space to breathe without feeling like I’m gasping for air.
I want space to be able to paint and draw and write.
I want to feel like I’m enjoying life and not like I’m constantly having to search for the glimmer of light within the darkness.

There is no “returning to normal.” I’ve been through enough trauma and tragedy to know that life doesn’t work like that. I know that holding on to the idea that things will go back to the way they were is not helpful for me. I need to grieve what has been lost and move forward. To find and create a new normal; but that’s not always easy…….

I’m tired.
I’m so very tired.
And that’s okay.

It’s been a tiring year.

Maybe in the “waiting for the end”; I’m also waiting for the beginning of what is to come.

HOPE