This is a weird post for me to write, but hey, what good is a blog if you can’t share your weirdness, right? Anybody who knows me knows that I’m a relatively competent person. I’m a single parent, and I did a pretty decent job of raising two fairly amazing young adults. I’ve held down a job, paid my bills, maintained relationships, and I’ve done it all on my own. I’ve done what an independent adult is supposed to do. Yes, I adulted. I have proven time and time again that I can take care of myself and my family, and I don’t need any help to do it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some great friends that have taken the dad role for my kids, and any one of my friends would have lent a hand had I asked. But I never did.
So last night, I woke up around midnight violently sick to my stomach and some barfing ensued. Today, I did my grocery shopping and ran my errands and ate crackers and drank ginger ale. I did what I had to do. But you know what. I am am sick of it. I am sick of being responsible, and I am sick of adulting. I want someone to take care of me. I want someone to say, “I’ll do the shopping, you just stay in bed.” Just have some adult for me for a while. I’m sick of always having to figure everything out on my own without someone else to lean on. My kids will do stuff, but it’s not there job. It’s not anybody’s job to live my life and do my stuff. It’s my job, and I’ll keep doing it.
I’m just sick of it.