I struggle with Sundays. To some degree I have always struggled with them because I get anxious about starting the new week. A good chunk of the day is usually spent in church; another chunk on grocery shopping. In recent years I would be stressing about finishing a paper for school. Earlier this year it was one of the two days a week I felt like I was winning the battle through Hope’s transition.
I’m not exactly sure why I struggle with Sunday’s now. I am short tempered; easily triggered. I almost feel twitchy; like I’ve had too much caffeine, though I tend to lay off the stuff a bit on the weekends. I can be short with Hope. I really just want to be left alone. Over the months, Hope has kind of learned to migrate to her room to veg on TV, puzzles and other games on Sundays, leaving me in quiet solitude.
Yeah, it doesn’t help. Then I feel guilty because I should be spending time with her.
I wonder if I have too much time to think. During the week I just move from task to task, event to event. Saturdays are our bonding/adventure days. Sundays are slow. I do much more reflecting on Sundays. I dissect the good, the bad and the ugly.
On Sundays I think I have time to miss my pre-Hope life. I have time to fret about how my parenting is perceived. I have time to reflect on criticisms and perceived slights. I have time to ponder what it means to parent a child who has experienced deep trauma. I have time pick at emotional wounds. I have time to extrapolate them into things much bigger than they probably should be. I have time to allow anger to bloom. I have time to miss spending time with Elihu.
Sundays are the days when I get to feel the full weight of being a parent, a single parent, a single adoptive parent, a single adoptive parent of a child who has experienced what Hope has experienced. Sundays are the days when I allow myself to feel the full weight of just being overwhelmed.
I also feel pretty alone on Sundays.
I don’t know why I don’t spend more time considering the wins of week or the growth I see in my daughter on Sundays. I’m really good at that Monday through Saturday. I can’t seem to do it on Sunday. I don’t know if my mind and my body just needs to feel it all on Sundays or what.
I don’t really know why I’m so crabby on Sundays, but trust that my struggle is super real on Sundays.
I hope a time will come when Sundays just don’t suck so much.