Tired of playing host, tour guide, happy-keeper, everything-to-everyone.
Returned from airport, slept two days straight, only waking to welcome kids back from school and in a waking sleep, help with homework, make dinner, clean up, tuck in and then collapse into bed with cnn turned on.
Third day, awake.
Depressed.
House feels empty.
I need to find my balance, my center. Lately, running away feels good.
I daydream.
I don't feel much good to anyone.
I give so much and receive very little in return.
Every day the expectations and my output eat away little by little till I am a crumb of a person.
Hth do I rejuvenate when I don't live by the ocean any more? My ocean? My therapy. My sanity.
Instead, I am in a city of millions, displaced and resentful.
Tricked by my husband, who's goal has always been to move here to his home town.
This place that sucks me dry.
I hide it from the kids, 7 and 9, the best I can, but with their intuition they see the lack.
Perhaps it's me.
It's been 3 years and I can't get over losing my beach, my friend, my love.
Is the answer to continue to medicate myself, numb myself?
When it catches up with me will the walls come tumbling down? And at what cost?
I'm so very tired.
Perhaps I am just broken.
