Some days I wonder what my purpose is.
If I'm just here to be a spare part. Or if I am actually a valued member of the family, or the team.
Or if I'm just this person who is just there. Meaningless but just there.
Some days I wonder why I bother.
Why do I bother trying so hard to make everyone elses lives happy, relaxed, fun and full of love when I don't get that in return.
Some days I wonder if I really am human.
Or am I just this robot. Set to do the same things over and over and over again.
Relax? That's not something in the instruction manual.
If my batteries are running low I have to fight on through. Struggling. Which makes it even harder to process the things I should be doing.
My list of expectations is so long and I can't fulfil it all. I try to prioritise but seem to always get it wrong.
Some days I juggle so many plates that I wonder how I'm supposed to balance it all.
Keeping the house tidy, the fridge full, the family fed, pants in the drawers. All the usual things.
But it builds up. The plates stack up higher, and higher. And as they stack up my head gets fuller and fuller.
And that's not a priority. It doesn't matter that things affect me.
Some days I wonder if my mental health really matters.
Is it seen as an excuse? As a joke? "Oh she's talking about that again?!" *yawn* *eyeroll*.
Is it not a consideration?
I try so hard to not let it get in the way of things. I ignore it. I fight it. I push it to the side.
But all of that. It builds up. It gets worse and worse and then there is more to fight, more to ignore, more to push away.
A reminder that maybe I'll never be better.
I'll always be doing the wrong thing.
If I can't even have Christmas Day off. Then what's the point in trying.