god I'm so tired you know I'm sitting here staring at a pile of dishes in the sink that feels like it goes all the way to the ceiling and I just can't bring myself to move not a muscle you know the kind of tired that gets into your bones that makes your eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds and your brain is just buzzing with a million thoughts but none of them are coherent enough to actually form a plan and I look at those dishes and I know they need to get done I know they do I know the kid needs breakfast in the morning and those cereal bowls aren't going to magically clean themselves but it feels like the Everest of chores like an impossible feat that I just don't have the will for not tonight not ever again maybe I feel like I've been doing dishes for sixty years straight and somehow the pile just keeps getting bigger anyone else ever feel this way this absolute inability to just DO something simple that you know needs doing I mean it's not like it's brain surgery it's just soap and water and a sponge but it's like a block like my entire being just rejects the idea of moving from this spot from this worn-out armchair my mother bought me twenty years ago she used to say a clean kitchen is a happy kitchen and I just want to laugh at that now a happy kitchen a happy life I don't even remember what happy feels like anymore it's all just this dull ache this constant hum of worry and exhaustion that never ever stops not for a second and then the guilt starts creeping in doesn't it I mean how pathetic is this I'm a grown woman a mother a primary caregiver for a child whose every waking moment is a calculation of symptoms and medications and doctor's appointments and therapies and I can't even wash a few damn plates what kind of person am I what kind of mother am I if I can't even manage the basic upkeep of my own home I mean the kid deserves better than this than a mother who just sits here paralyzed by a sink full of dirty dishes a mother who feels like she's drowning in a teaspoon of water and I hear my mother's voice again telling me to pull myself up by my bootstraps to stop being so dramatic everything's always dramatic with me isn't it I just wish someone would come and do them for me just once just one time without me having to ask without me having to explain how utterly depleted I am how every single cell in my body screams for rest for a moment of silence a moment where I'm not responsible for keeping another human being alive and well and thriving you know it's not just the dishes it's everything it's the laundry that's probably breeding new life forms in the basket it's the bills I haven't paid it's the phone calls I haven't returned it's the endless mental to-do list that never shrinks that only ever grows exponentially with each passing day and I just want to scream sometimes just a guttural raw scream until my throat is hoarse and maybe then maybe then something would give is it just me am I the only one who feels like this some days that the sheer weight of existence of being the one who holds it all together is just too much that you just want to curl up in a ball and disappear until someone else sorts it all out because honestly I don't know how much more I have left to give I really don't and those dishes just sit there mocking me a testament to my utter failure to keep up with the simplest demands of living and I can't move I just can't move