I have reached a new level of tired.

It’s a level of tired I didn’t even know existed. It’s not new baby tired, or someone is up sick all night tired. 

It’s pandemic tired. 

Do you know this tired? 

Can you feel it? 

It’s tired of making decisions. It’s tired of trying to figure out how to see family members safely. It’s tired of not being able to see people at all.

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It’s tired of having everyone in the house 24 hours a day for 9 months in a row.

It’s tired of thinking about if I have my mask and my hand sanitizer before I head out the door.

It’s tired of trying to find just a little bit of peace and quiet and a moment to myself.

It’s tired of telling the kids no. 

It’s tired of trying to navigate the holidays during a pandemic. 

It’s tired of trying to figure out if my kids can participate in extracurriculars safely. 

It’s tired of seeing the numbers rising. 

It’s tired of thinking about how far apart I’m standing from someone when I’m talking to them. 

It’s tired of not leaving my home, and wanting to go somewhere, but not really knowing where to go. 

It’s tired of wondering if I’m making the best choices. It’s tired of wondering if my kids are really doing OK. It’s tired of wondering if this is the best option for education for them. It’s tired of wondering if my husband’s job is still going to be there in a few months. It’s tired of wondering if my parents are going to be OK. It’s tired of thinking about what will happen if the hospitals fill up. 

That’s the kind of tired I am right now. 

And I don’t want to complain. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful. But right now, it’s where I am. 

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The other day, I was taking a bath, and for just one moment, I allowed myself to think about what it would be like if this was all over. And I realized how little I think about this. I am a positive person by nature. My glass is usually half full. I am a cheerleader at heart and love to throw out “Good job!” and “I’m proud of you!” and “You can do it!” as often as I can. And because of this, I don’t think I’ve really allowed myself to stop and think about all I’m missing, or what it would feel like if one day this all just went away. 

Can you imagine? What if it went away? 

Instead, I wake up and I put one foot in front of the other. I make my to-do list. I focus on my husband and my children. I read my Bible. I write. I’m in a good routine. We’re in our groove. We’ve got this.

Good job! I’m proud of you! You can do it! 

And that’s what I try to focus on. 

Keep it positive. See the blessings. See the good

But in that moment, in the tub, in the suds and the hot water, I felt grief wash over me.

I felt tired. 

So. Tired. 

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I am tired, friends. And it’s OK to say that. It’s OK for you to say it, too. It doesn’t mean you aren’t grateful. It doesn’t mean you aren’t happy.

You can be grateful and happy and also tired and ready for a little bit of normalcy to return. 

Part of getting through this in a healthy way, honestly trying to get through anything in a healthy way, is processing and grieving and talking and sharing. 

One day, this will be a part of our stories. One day, this will be in the history books as something that was. But for now, it is. And we have to try to get through it as best as we can. 

And sometimes that means admitting, I’m tired. 

Jennifer Thompson

Jennifer Thompson is a freelance writer, preschool art teacher and mother of four with a heart for Jesus. Her work can be found on a number of blogs and parenting publications. Recently relocated from Indianapolis to Nashville, Tennessee. She is a passionate storyteller and believes every person has an important story to tell. We grow when we share. And even more when we listen.