I spent one weekend morning pouring my heart in my journal. It was cathartic to sort it all out. A few hours later Conrad asked me if I’m ok. I said I’m not. And we had a lengthy deep clarity giving conversation. 

I had started shutting down in the recent weeks. And it is dangerous to pull away with discouragement. In my heart the thorn of doubt started piercing and my perpetual exhaustion added to the confusion. Losing hope about the purpose of this life as it is, the parenting, the gift of companionship. 

So I poured my heart to Conrad. Still hoping. Still believing. I was concise. Albeit emotional I was cristal clear about my plight. I go through the motions serving and I don’t even expect to be thanked or seen or helped. 

Hey, did you notice that only as things get better and you finally can catch your breath, you start to see how hard it actually was. I’m at this point where things started improving and I feel more depressed and hopeless than when things were really really hard because we were in survival mode. 

anyway, there is hope. And my conversation with Conrad was good. I trust we can come on the other side stronger, better communicators, helpful and kind, rested and unafraid. 

Depression or burnout can really twist the reality. Sleeping on it is always good but how many days, or months do you have to sleep on it. Also, ignoring the elephant in the room doesn’t magically solve our challenges. So we pull our selves up, we commit to speak up, to listen well, to be patient and brave.