You look at me with those eyes and I know you just don’t get it. I’ve snapped about something stupid and it has come right out of nowhere. And after a busy day at work, you just want to come home and relax on the sofa.
But now here I am, moaning again.
And it hurts. Because I desperately want to tell you that I am completely and utterly broken, but I know you won’t understand. You won’t see why I am so mentally exhausted when I get to stay home every day. The life I chose to live.
And I understand. I know you don’t think I do, but I see that you are tired. I know you try your best. I see that you help when you remember…
But today I broke down.
And I want you to know why…
The thing is, it starts off really small, with little things that mostly wash over me and go unnoticed. Things that said aloud seem so completely ridiculous that I can’t even be bothered to mention them when they happen.
Things like forgetting to do the dishwasher. To
Things like feigned deafness when a nappy needs changing. The hope that I will just get on up and do it as normal. It is just one nappy to you but to
Things like asking me if you should do something. Like you need me to tell you. When you know the answer is yes but you hope that I will just say I will do it. Like bathtime or bedtime. Hopefully I will just do it again.
Those chores, those little things, are insignificant to you. They take barely any time to do so what difference does it make who does it? You are tired and want to relax, so why can’t I just do it? I get it.
The thing is, they may seem small & insignificant to you but when you have done them 100 times already that week, that final straw really does start to break that camel’s back.
So when you skip one, that is one more time I have to do it. Over and over and over again.
And that is when I break.
And you look at me with those eyes and I know you just don’t get it. You do what you can when you already work long hours, so what more can I want?
I want you do take some of the load.
I need you to take some of the load.
Just some. Enough so that I can skip a nappy change. Enough so I can walk into the kitchen and not have to battle to make dinner. Enough so I don’t have to read that bedtime story for the millionth time.
When you come home and want to slump onto the sofa and get lost in your phone, look up and see me. See me and remember that I’ve been at home all day without an adult to talk to. I’ve changed nappies, tidied up the house, answered all the questions, made the dinner and remembered to get homework done. See me and let me know you’ve got this.
You’ve got this now and I can switch off until tomorrow when it will all start again.
That is what I need.