Tomorrow won't be so hard.

I've been thinking about trials tonight. A close friend called me today to tell me that her sister in law's cancer is back. The doctors are saying "it's aggressive". When we talked, she wasn't sure what that meant. Needs aggressive treatment? It's terminal? I guess time will tell.

So my hard days and weeks don't seem like much in comparison. I could weigh the invisible trials in my hands. Rough day? Or possibly terminal cancer accompanied by financial burdens and all of the stress, heartache, etc that tag along? Hmmm...which would be harder?

It's nearly eleven and I've finally stopped comparing. The cancer wins. Hands down. They are dealing with something much worse. I'm grateful we're not trading places.

However, I've also come to the conclusion that this doesn't mean that what I'm going through isn't hard. I may not be fighting a terminal illness or dealing with losing a child or loved one or any of the other things that are completely worse. But that doesn't mean that today was easy.

I hope this doesn't sound like a pity party. It's not meant to be. This really is just me working things out in my head and throwing them out there. Maybe I'm symbolically releasing the negative from my brain or something crazy like that. I don't know.

What's so rough about my life anyway?

*Yes, my husband is gone. Has been for a long time. Will be for a long time still. So? At least he's alive and healthy and I will see him again soon.

*Some days, my kids are really hard. Lately, Jack clings to me a lot. He tends to do that when he misses his dad. I spend most of the day doing things one handed. (I know this is true for most moms, it's just multiplied for me on days like this). And he yells. And yes, Payson hasn't been as obedient lately as I'd like. I'm sick of counting to three and giving time outs and taking away privileges. At least my children are happy and healthy and here and as well behaved as they are.

*I don't have a home. Most of my things are in storage. I share a room with my children. I even share a bed with one of them. The closet is crammed with clothes for three. There's no space for anything. I feel guilty when my children play with toys because it's a mess in someone else's house. I feel guilty getting in the shower because the kids may get into something they shouldn't or pester someone they shouldn't and I'm not there to stop it. I feel guilty when I have to put the kids in the bath and to bed after dinner, because that means someone else may clean up after us. If I were in my own place, I would just clean up when I was done. Instead, someone else may clean up after me and may then be frustrated that I didn't clean up after myself and my children. When the kids are loud, they aren't just bugging me. They are driving people crazy in a house where it would otherwise be calm and quiet. The three of us can be a very big nuisance. I have a laundry day. There are too many people in this house who use the machine. Get your laundry done in the allotted amount of time or wait until your day rolls around again next week. In my own home I wash laundry on a specific day. I do laundry on my scheduled day and then as needed during the week to keep things from piling up too much. One day is not enough. Here, I don't have more than a day. But at least I have my family. At least they are willing to share their home with me. I have a room and a bed and food and family. I am SO grateful, as I should be, that I am surrounded by loved ones instead of alone in this situation.

You'd think living with family would ease the physical burden. I guess it can in some situations. I just don't choose that. My family does not watch my children. My husband works full time. My full time job is them. That is my choice. I am burdening the family enough being here. I don't need to make them raise my children too. I bathe them, I feed them, I dress them, I change diapers, wipe bums and noses, etc. If I need a sitter, I pay my sister or call someone in the young women's, just as I would if I lived in my own space. I want my family to enjoy my children, not view them as something they have to put up with while I'm here. I am happy to do it. It would simply be added guilt to ask someone else to do it for me.

These are simple trials. Basic. And temporary. I know they will all disappear soon. Hopefully replaced by easier trials. :) (A joke! I just emoticon smiled!! Working things out this way MUST be helping!!) In the mean time, I'm trying my best to endure. And with a good attitude. In August, when someone asked how I was, I could answer cheerfully, "Good!!" Even on a hard day, I was still handling things well. In the last few weeks my answer has been with a smile, "I'm getting through it" or, "It's almost over!" It was hard, but I could do it. This is the final stretch.

Today, I have broken down. I don't share this so that you'll feel sorry for me. Like I said before, I'm working out my thoughts here. It's helpful for me. Also, I don't want everyone to have pictures of me in their head of someone who is strong all the time. I think I'm generally a pretty strong person. But I'm definitely not always that person.

Today I'm definitely not that person.

Today my depression and anxiety (yes, I suffer from severe anxiety, which causes depression. I'm very open about it. If you ever want to ask me about it, feel free. Talking about it makes it easier for me.) have turned the hard things into really, really hard things. They feel like too much. Every tiny thing feels magnified. I'm tired. My eyes are tired. My feet are tired. My arms are tired. My back is tired.

My soul is tired.

I'm ready for this to be over. I'm ready to refresh and reboot and start something new. I don't want to face this same challenge any more.

I know, I know. Endure to the end. I keep reminding myself. I have not endured well today. I was not patient enough with Payson when she didn't want to put her dolls away. She just wanted to play. And I wasn't understanding when Jack wanted to be held. He just misses his daddy. And I took a lot of my frustration out on an underserving Jason. I'm sure he wishes he hadn't called to see how things were going.

I cried. Like a little baby. For a long time. I didn't know how else to make it all stop. I guess I didn't get all of the tears out. They're still coming. I'm just so tired. And there's still a ways yet until moving day.

I'll go to sleep. I'll wake up and get Payson off to school. I'll get things done for work. I'll finish folding my laundry. I'll enjoy the ward Halloween party. I'll try to be better with the kids. I'll read a little more in my scriptures and stay on my knees a little longer. I'll try not to think about how hard today was. I'll try to handle things better. I'll remember the sweet comments of friends letting me know I'm not alone and that I can do this. I'll remember the delicious rocky road ice cream that was brought by tonight, along with a much, MUCH needed hug from a true friend. (I love you, Erin. I really do). And I'll just keep going until I feel better. I hope that's soon.

I'll remember that I do not have it that bad. I'll remember to pray for those who are dealing with so much more. But I'll also recognize that it's okay to feel like life is hard. Even if it's nothing big. It's okay to have hard days.

I'll be okay. I'll be more than okay. I really will. Tomorrow won't be so hard. And really, a month from now, I'll probably laugh at myself for thinking that today was such a hard day. I'm really looking forward to that day.