I have this tendency, as may of us do, to hide my weakness until it consumes me. Most of the time, I can take a moment, deal with it, and move on. These past couple of weeks, I haven't even had a moment to be able to do that. Or, maybe it's just that I didn't want to admit it. I am awesome at organizing and juggling tasks, but, somewhere in the past couple of weeks, I can't seem to manage to even do what I'm good at. Then, someone did something for me that was so selfless and amazing. That one act gave me strength to keep going when I wanted to do nothing but fall apart. It gave me the strength I needed to put things aside and have a fantastic, long weekend with my family. Funny thing about problems though is that you can't seem to run away from them for long. When we got home, they were all still here waiting for me.
Today, I walked my baby to school in the pouring rain. I walked home, alone, carrying a pair of hot pink rain boots, and I cried. I sat in a sea of chaos and just cried. It's what I needed. I needed to be weak. I needed to not be afraid to be weak. I needed it so I can once again be strong. And I will. I got this.