The Weight of the "Only": Finding My Footing in the Aftermath

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I have spent a lot of time lately waiting for the "exhale." You know the one—that deep, cleansing breath you take when the storm finally passes, and the sun peeks through. On paper, the storm has finally cleared for us; another season of life has transitioned.

It was quite a stressful season of unemployment. But now I’m back to working from home in an even better job. My thirteen-year-old, Liam, is absolutely thriving; he’s crushing it in school, dedicated to his Taekwondo practice, and having a blast playing rec basketball. Even our two dogs, Teddy the mini-bernedoodle and Winston the cockapoo, seem to have settled into a happy rhythm.

But if I’m being honest—the kind of honesty that usually stays tucked away in my journal—I’ve been struggling.

I thought that once I landed the job, the anxiety would simply vanish. Instead, I’ve found that the stress of unemployment left a ripple effect that is still washing over me. Even though the immediate crisis is over, I find myself stuck in a headspace where it’s difficult to see the positive side of things.

When you are a widow and the sole adult in the household, the word "only" carries a massive weight. I am the only one managing the bills, the only one coordinating the sports schedules, the only one worrying about the grocery budget, and the only one making sure the dogs are fed and the house hasn’t fallen apart.

That "underlying anxiety" isn't just about money; it’s about the sheer volume of responsibility. It’s a heavy burden to carry alone. On hard days, that weight makes me feel small, useless, and even defeated; it can overwhelm me to the point of being stuck in my head. There have been moments where just getting through the next hour felt like a marathon I wasn't trained to run.

I’ve had to realize that healing isn't linear. Just because my bank account or my schedule looks "better" doesn’t mean my heart automatically feels "fine." There is work to be done. I am slowly, painfully, starting to see the light again. It isn’t a sudden burst of sunshine; it’s more like a slow dawn. I’m learning to stop apologizing to myself for feeling overwhelmed. It’s okay to acknowledge that being the pillar of a home is exhausting.

In those moments when I feel most pathetic or "less than," I have to lean into the only thing stronger than my anxiety: my faith and my self. First, I've got to set the foundation by getting present. I do this by using bilateral tapping, box breathing, and meditation, which for me ends up looking like a discussion or prayer between God and me. I know God is on my side, even when my emotions are screaming otherwise. He doesn’t ask me to be a superhero; He just asks me to trust Him with the next step.

I’ve been holding onto Psalm 34:17-18:

"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

If you’re in a season where you feel like you’re doing "all the right things" but still feel like you’re underwater, please know you aren't alone. I’m right there with you.

I’m not looking for a "happily ever after" today. I’m just looking for an "okay" type of day. Sometimes, all you can do is just take it day by day—and on the really heavy days, it’s moment by moment. I’ll keep writing, keep working, keep cheering for Liam at his games, and keep cuddling Teddy and Winston.

I’m hanging in there. And if you’re reading this, I hope you are too.

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