I’m tired.

My job is tiring, though I love it. It is made more tiring by the masks, the distance, the many students on Zoom instead of in the classroom. I’m tired of answering emails and questions and calming others’ anxieties. I’m tired of parenting my two tiny people, who are amazing, but tiny, and have SO. MANY. QUESTIONS. I’m tired of cleaning the house, of doing the laundry, of managing all the chaos and still finding crumbs under my bare feet every night.

I’m tired of thinking big thoughts on the way to wellness. I’m tired of thinking about my estranged brother, my parents and how they mishandled my childhood, of the long twisting road of an eating disorder. I’m tired of therapy.

I’m tired of recovery. I wish that when everything else is hard, this wouldn’t be so damn hard, too. I guess that’s the point. Day 27.

Published by Quitter

I’m a college professor, wife, and mother of 2 small kids. I’m on a recovery journey 20 years in the making.

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