There’s a strange kind of strength that comes with always being on the edge of collapse. It’s the duality of human functionality – the ability to perform, to meet expectations, to be everything for everyone, knowing that you could fall apart at any moment.
For many, especially single mothers like myself, who work full time – this is life. A constant, exhausting, balancing act where burnout is not an option. Crashing out would almost be a luxury – one I don’t have the privilege to afford.
It’s like Functioning at full capacity on an empty tank !
At work, I am professional, I meet deadlines, engage in meetings, problem solve and push forward with a resilience that seems effortless to those watching. Nobody sees the exhaustion layered beneath my well practiced smile. Nobody sees the weight of responsibility that keeps me up at night, wondering how to stretch my paycheck.
At home, I am a mother. The caregiver. The nurturer. The one who makes everything magically appear. The one who makes everything okay – even when I am not okay myself. I cook, I clean, I check homework, I make sure love is felt even when I feel depleted. There is no pause button, no switch off.
I call it The unseen weight of the “strong one”.
when people admire the strength you possess. “I don’t know how you do it” they always say with a tone of amazement. But they don’t realize that this kind of strength is not a choice. It’s a necessity, a superpower born out of hardship, out of having no backup plan – it’s survival.
Truth is, being the strong one is lonely. I don’t get to fall apart In front of others. I don’t get to stop functioning, even on days when exhaustion feels like a second skin. When every task is heavier than the last. When your mind is screaming for rest.
Rest almost feels like a fantasy.
That’s the cruelest irony of constant functionality. Rest is elusive. it feels undeserved because there’s always something more to do. There’s always another responsibility waiting. And when you find moments of stillness, guilt creeps in. I am in a constant cycle of “I should be doing something” because me taking a break is just me ignoring a task that desperately needs to be done.
The concept of constant functionality is experienced by many – even if you’re not in my situation. There is something everyone is going through, right? The pressure keeps getting worser, as the generation says.
Truth is, you deserve rest just as everyone else. You deserve care, grace and space to exhale. Functioning at the verge of burnout is not sustainable, even if you’ve mastered the art of pushing through. So if crashing out isn’t an option, then the very least, there must be sacred moments where you reclaim something for yourself.
Rest is not a reward, it’s a requirement. It’s not something you earn after reaching exhaustion. Rest is what you need to prevent exhaustion.
The duality of human functionality is both a marvel and a curse. The ability to keep going when everything inside of you is begging to stop is a testament of resilience but resilience should never come at the cost of your well-being. I promise you that you are allowed to rest. You are allowed to break sometimes.
But not me cause if I do, nobody else will be there to pick up the pieces. But that is not the point of this post.
One day at a time 