Lately, I’ve been feeling like that chair.

You know the one, and if you don’t then frankly this probably isn’t for you. It carries out its post in the corner of your bedroom day in and day out, hardly ever serving its rightful purpose as a soft place to land. Instead, it’s usually covered in clean clothes yet to be hung or towels yet to be folded. Quite possibly, more often than not, it can barely be seen beneath its load.

These days, I can really relate. 

Things have been tough, amirite? I mean, we woke up one day almost a year ago (!) and our entire was flipped upside down. As time has worn on, so has the effect of current world events and honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if I looked like a cartoon drawing of someone who had dug herself a hole with all of the pacing I’ve been doing. The load that was so unceremoniously dumped on us all hasn’t seemed to lighten in the least, if anything, my shoulders are telling me it’s been multiplying. 

The thing is, I don’t really feel OK right now.

I lied to myself for a long time about that, up until recently. I’ve been floating through this hellacious year trying to pretend that it doesn’t really matter, I’m alright, and everything is just fine. Truthfully, though, that’s just really not the case.

I realize now that in lying to myself, I’ve been denying myself of the one thing that could really help. 

Support.

A couple of extra screws in the legs of that old, worn corner chair could really do it some good. The difference between me and the chair is that it can’t ask for help. It can’t tell me it’s feeling weak until it’s too late. I won’t know I’ve thrown too much at it until its legs start to wobble, or worse, until it completely breaks. 

I was so intent on fooling myself that I didn’t realize how close I was to my legs giving way beneath me. 

So yeah, lately I feel like that bedroom corner laundry chair, but I’ve found my voice within my struggle. I’ve accepted the fact that I need a little help here and there. A lot of days I wake up feeling like I’m not OK, but I’ve learned to ask those close to me for help on the hard days. I hope that if you feel this way, you can, too.

No one deserves to have to break. 

PS – Take that break before you break, mama.

Shelbie Farmer

I’m a full time bookkeeper, but my favorite “job” is being mama to my sons. I have a love for all things personalized, early morning cuddles, and way too many sweets. Writing is my favorite way to talk about how much I love motherhood and my hope is that the things I write will resonate with other moms.