Some nights, I take a deep breath before stepping inside, as if I’m about to perform some intricate balancing act. Not the kind with ribbons and grace, but the kind where you’re juggling knives, blindfolded, while riding a unicycle on a tightrope.
I tell myself I’m fine. I’ve got this. I am a seasoned professional at carrying the weight of the world—sometimes literally, if you count the overflowing laundry basket I tripped over this morning. But the truth is, I’m tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.
Somewhere between the exhaustion and the emotional gymnastics, I found myself wondering when exactly I signed up for this game of Who Can Hold It Together The Longest?
And then, as if on cue, life delivered its signature touch of irony. A phone call. A moment that sent me spiraling back into memories I’d rather forget. A reminder that no matter how much I try to move forward, there are still cracks in the foundation.
But here’s the thing—I made it home. Maybe reluctantly, maybe with a little hesitation, but I made it. And that has to count for something, right?
So if you, too, find yourself sitting in your car, staring at your front door like it might bite you, just know you’re not alone. And if you ever figure out the secret to balancing it all without the occasional mental breakdown, please share—preferably in PowerPoint format with bullet points and diagrams.
Until then, we’ll keep going. One step, one sigh, one awkward laugh at a time.
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