My Musings

Life on the Other Side: A stressed, worn-out mum’s experiment in not caring

Have you ever gotten to the point of just not caring anymore?

You just can’t find a shit to give and you can’t be bothered searching for one anymore?

I think I’m there.

Not like in a depressed, life sucks, I give up kind of way. Just in the why should I bother way.

I had an “epiphany” last night where I realised I care way too much. About everything. All the time. Care, care, care. 60/60/24/7/365. And I expect everyone in my family to care as much as I do. And it crushes me in a big way when they just don’t.

Now, I am a carer who is fatigued. I have carers fatigue – self-diagnosed.

I am a stressed, worn-out, too-tired-to-care-anymore mum. Ironically, I have become my own ideal health coaching client. First you live it, then you teach it, right?

To be perfectly honest, ladies, things haven’t been great in my house for some time.

A new marriage with a (wonderful, good) man who seems to be the opposite to me in every way possible. 18 months of blending a family with 3 tween/teenaged young women with very different personalities and upbringings.

And I’ve cared too much. Expected too much. Demanded too much. Ranted too much. Lost my shit way too much. Called it quits too much. Wanted to run away and join the circus too much.

I’ve had panic attacks. I’ve been so overwhelmed with anxiety/stress/fury that I’ve hyperventilated to the point of passing out on the floor under my dining table. True story. I’m not even exaggerating a little. I wish I was.

And it occurred to me last night that the (slightly simplified for entertainment purposes) answer to all of my/our problems could just be that I care too much….

So I decided I’d try to do life the way the other half does it….you know, the other half who never seem bothered by too much at all.

The ones who just take whatever life throws at them with a “hmmm….ok…. that’s happening now”.

The ones who don’t overthink and over-analyse every little thing they do, every thought they have.

The ones who don’t try to figure out why other people do things differently, think differently.

The ones who just don’t really give a shit unless they absolutely have to.

The ones who just seem comfortable with waiting for someone else to come up with a solution, with an idea, with a plan.

The non-planners! The non-thinkers!

Those people are like unicorns to me – they’re magical and they poop rainbows, yet surely they don’t actually exist in the real world.

For one two one will someone just tell me how many weeks as long as I can manage it without my head exploding, I will try to do life they way the other half does it.

“It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t bother me.”

I’ll write every day about how life is on the other side. I won’t analyse, I’ll just record and observe. Just like a scientific experiment.

Because this is about me and not my adoring family, I’ll keep their names out of it and their reputations intact, and simply refer to them as FM (Family Member) #1, 2, 3, or 4.

Wish me luck and pray we all come out of this in one piece!

Melanie (aka newly-chilled-out mumma) x

Flicka Photography
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