Carry Me, Please

Dear Universe,

I’m sitting at the beach, sand between my toes, sappy music in my ears, tears rolling down my cheeks, finding myself just wanting to be here.

I don’t want to do anything else.

I don’t want to get groceries. I don’t want to iron my curtains that need to get hung up. I don’t want to pick up my kids later.

I’ve had four days now without my kids and, Universe? I haven’t missed them.

And I hate myself for saying that. I’m a terrible mother.

I think I’m realizing I am more depleted than I’ve thought or allowed myself to admit. I’m tired.

These past few days have been heaven. I’ve had no demands put on me and the only decisions I’ve had to make are whether I want to walk to the beach or the forest (answer: both).

I just want to walk. All the time. Anywhere. Away.

I just want to sit by the water or amongst the trees and be still for a while. I want quiet. I want everything else to just go away and let me be.

“Welcome to life as an adult,” I guess, right?

I feel like I’m failing. Like I’m lazy. Weak. Just not doing this – life, motherhood, divorce, any of it – right or well.

I’m going to the doctor in two days. It was a hard call for me to make. It feels like admitting defeat or something. But I hope it will help. I’m sure it will help.

And until then I guess it’s chin up. Big girl panties on. Keep moving.

That’s just what we do. It’s what I do.

But I’m tellin ya now, Universe, I’m ready to be carried a bit. Held.

Can you help me with that, please?

XO – Bailee

June 23, 2026