The Soft Spot Between A Rock and A Hard Place

Lately I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread. I’m tired. So tired. My house is a mess, we’re running out of clean dishes and counter space to stack the dirty ones, and I haven’t had a shower since Thursday. Thursday!

Often it feels like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.  I’m single so I have to work to support my son and myself. That’s a given. I left my last job after 11 years because it was so stressful. I didn’t enjoy working there. When I got my current job almost two years ago, I thought I’d found the answer. Something I would enjoy doing while I figured out my passion. Three months in I was so exhausted by the end of each day, all I could do was crash on my couch. I hoped it would get better. It didn’t.

The intensity, the pressure, and the long hours finally got the better of me. As many of you know, in May I was diagnosed was diagnosed with Adrenal Exhaustion. The only way to heal myself is to eat better, get more sleep, and lower my stress level. I was on board. Good health is important. And I was so tired of feely lousy.

So in June I announced I’d be leaving my soul-sucking job by the end of the summer. I felt optimistic, as always, that I’d find something better. But it’s October. And I’m still here. I applied for jobs and got no interviews. I put together a website as an online resume and beefed up my LinkedIn profile. I reached out to people I’d like to work with. While I’ve gotten some response and met some really great people, no opportunities have materialized.

So I decided to shift gears. In September I finished the life coach training course I’d been taking since January. I was ready to take on the world! I started put myself out there as a coach. But I have to be honest. Building a business seems daunting on those days when I don’t even have the energy to make my personal hygiene a priority.

This has been vaguely reminiscent of a time in my life when depression was my constant companion. When just getting through the day was the best I could do. And I feel guilty because I’m so exhausted I sometimes take it out on my 15 year old son, Kyle. When I’m feeling really frustrated with my situation, I’m not as patient as I’d like to be. There’s only so much of me to go around and he sometimes gets the short end of the stick. In those moments I feel scared and weak and small.

But the one difference I can see between those early days in the dark cloud of depression and now, is hope. The most devastating part of depression for me was the utter hopelessness that I would never be happy again. And even though I have no idea how this is all going to turn out, I know it my heart something good is on its way.

The soft spot is hope. And that hopefulness keeps me moving forward. As long as I keep moving toward my goals, I have succeeded. I only fail if I give up.

Some days I just fall apart out of sheer frustration. And some days I recognize the smallest thing that holds it all together. The nights I actually do cook dinner instead of getting take out. The days I take a shower and get dressed. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but some days you have to take the small wins. Some days, the small wins are all you’ve got.


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