A poem about being tired; too tired to even come up with a title

I’m tired.

I’m tired of being tired all the dang time.

I’m tired of not having any energy to have fun with my kids.

I’m tired of my kids always seeing me tired.

I’m sad that these precious days of their childhood are consumed by this disease instead.

I’m tired of having a sick husband.

I’m tired of being the main parent.

I’m tired of being in charge of everything and everyone and still failing at all of it.

I’m tired of watching my best years of life be consumed by grief, by disease,

by cancer.

I’m tired of always being on high alert, wondering when more bad news

may come.

I

Am

Tired

Of

This.

I’m tired of being on the receiving end of help.

I’m tired of being That Family with Cancer.

I’m tired of holding it all together when I feel like falling apart.

I’m tired of living life in a constant state of urgency, a constant state of uncertainty.

I can’t plan ahead and I can’t make plans because I never know what each day will bring.

I’m tired of feeling my stomach drop each time a doctor calls.

Another scan, another blood test, another reason to worry.

I live my life wide awake, afraid of what will happen if I take a break or let my guard down.

Don’t think too much, don’t research too much, the numbers don’t lie but they may not be true.

Please, oh please, just make it all go away.

Make the bad stuff go away.

I’m tired of worrying about how long we may have, could it be a lifetime or a handful of years?

I'm tired of knowing that I'll always be worried.

Will it come back to haunt us again? It can't be trusted, it does what it wants.

It’s hard to know and hard to predict so we keep our heads in the game and never lose hope.

Except when we do, when the days are so hard and the truth hits us fiercely, the hope fades into fear and then I go into a deep dark place.

I’m tired of the rollercoaster.

I want off.

I want out.

I want normal, I want predictable, I want a boring life.

Most of all

I don’t want to be tired anymore.