I like to do things well. Lately, I don’t feel like I’m doing anything well. “Your kid has cancer. Get over yourself,” one might say to me. Or I might say to myself. But liking (or maybe needing) to do everything I do at a certain level of competence but not feeling like anything is going the way I want is basically taking away any control I have over my life. I feel crazy and resentful, which makes me feel like a horrible mother and wife. I resent the people I’m supposed to love and care about the most. (I do still love and care about them.) 

But I don’t feel like myself. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything good for anyone, so why do anything? Then I give myself a good pep talk and get about of bed and go about my mediocre day doing everything in a fog of stress and half measures. 

I guess the mom-ing usually gets my best efforts. It is very obvious when I’m having a less-than-great day there because the boys will tell me. I can pull myself out of a bad mood to play with them most of the time. I can’t pull myself out of a bad mood or into a creative mood to write or make anything or even work. Everything else is suffering. Or it feels waayyyyy harder. 

Just take a break from all of that stuff, one might suggest. Yeah, I mainly have. You may notice I don’t post as much. I haven’t done any crafts since last Christmas. I stopped going to ceramics class halfway through an 8-week session. But I don’t feel like myself. I like making things with my hands, but I just don’t think I can right now. I hate it. I understand in my mind that this is a short time of life in the grand scheme, but this is where the resentment comes in. I don’t feel like I have a single second to myself. I’m rarely alone. I can’t process anything in my brain so I can’t make anything new. I feel like a half-human. 

End of rant, I guess. There’s no positive twist to this one. I feel bad. I’m unhappy. I know it will end eventually, but this is where I am right now. Just kind of a bummer.