It's the stress of not-enough-money and no signs of more coming. It's an amicable divorce gone tense and stilted. It's full time caring for someone else, a little someone whom I love, that renders little time for caring for me in healthful, strengthening, soulful ways. It's a stress that clouds the future until there isn't one, there's only today's challenges and fatigue.
My psychiatrist, whom I love, has added a sleep aid to my collection of meds. I'm reluctant to take it. I'm reluctant to add another prescription to my litany of daily medications. I want to be healed, happy, and whole. I want to be off of the meds and standing on my own.
I try to remember to treat myself and to talk to myself the way I would a much loved friend. This is a phase of the divorce. This is an adjustment to my daily life with Little N and now his beloved babysitter too. The self care starts in my head where I must practice encouragement and patience. There will again be hopes and dreams. There still are bright funny friends to share my life with even if not as one partner.
And there is this bright funny little man, trying on our new life with me.