I lost it today. I hit my lowest point, a moment I’m not proud of, even embarrassed to admit.

That dent in the wall? That’s from me.

That toy I’m holding? Yep, I threw it against the wall in a fit of tears.

Amid the morning chaos with a toddler and second grader, it looked like a tornado had struck our basement.

I broke down in tears and yelled at my children to leave me alone. As I cleaned up, the tears turned into sobs and my frustration took over. I hurled a toy at the wall and watched it crashed to the ground with a thud.

The weight of the world finally got to me. After holding it in for 8+ months, my emotions reared their ugly head. Hundreds of days of holding it together unraveled in a matter of seconds.

As parents, we’re trying our best. We’ve become stay at home moms, we’re supervising remote learning and we’re trying to do typical chores, while many of us also have full time careers.

As I sat slumped against the wall, I looked around at the toys. I am a parent, yet at that moment, all I wanted was my mom.

Sad that my parents haven’t seen their grandchildren in a year.

Sad the sports that gave my daughter a sense of normalcy have come to an abrupt halt because of rising cases.

Sad because my daughter hasn’t been inside her school since March, and I wonder if she’ll even walk those halls this school year.

And sadness coupled with guilt as I look at the world around us. I am grateful to have a job, to be healthy, yet so many others aren’t so lucky.

So why am I sharing my lowest point?

Because that dent on the wall represents so many of us; a symbolic melt down after months of immense pressure we feel in life these days.

That dent on the wall, it will get patched up and smoothed over. It will eventually look as good as new. And we will get there too. It may not be tomorrow, or even three months from now, but eventually life will feel new again.

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