Some days I feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world, and the world keeps demanding more.
The weight of being “too much.”
The weight of feeling like a burden.
The weight of societal pressure to be the perfect mom, partner, human.
And then the weight I pile on myself — because I know better. I know the tools. I know the strategies. Shouldn’t that mean I can handle it all?
But here’s the truth: even when you know the tools, it doesn’t always make coping easier. Managing PMDD on top of ADHD, on top of raising two small humans, feels impossible most days. My mind wants perfection. My body is exhausted. And my heart? My heart just wants a break.
I struggle with who I am in all of this. There are moments where I feel like I don’t even exist as myself — just a mom, a caretaker, someone everyone else relies on. My own identity feels on pause until the baby can have a little independence. Until I can breathe without interruption. Until I can remember what it’s like to simply be me.
And the interruptions are constant. I can’t even poop by myself anymore. Showers are a spectator sport. My coffee is always cold. I once thought bangs would give me control over my life — spoiler: they did not. (But now I have bangs.)
Because I’m not good at feeling my feelings, I turn them over and over in my head, analyzing them, poking at them, trying to think my way out. But the truth is, no amount of thinking pulls me through the heaviness.
Today, the dam broke.
I cried.
And not a graceful, movie-scene cry.
And here’s the wild thing: after crying, I could breathe again.
After crying, I got shit done.
Sometimes the only tool you need is the one you fight against the hardest:
To stop analyzing.
To stop perfecting.
To stop holding it together.
And just cry.
Talk soon,
Tara
CEO of Chaos & Co.