I got in my car and drove away from my family.
I didn’t know where I was going.
I just walked past the TV playing Mickey Mouse, and the mess on the floor, and my husband sitting silently on the couch. I was frustrated with my kids and mad at my husband.
I just walked out the door and left.
I started driving and I wasn’t sure where.
For a split second, I thought what it would be like to just drive away, like far away, for good.
It sounded like a good idea for a moment.
But I found my arms turning my steering wheel into Sonic, as I began looking for a spot among unfamiliar vehicles to make sure I didn’t park beside someone I knew or someone I thought would try to start conversation.
And it makes me sad to think that all the things that bring me the most heartache in my life are all the things I always wanted,
and that makes me feel guilty.
I feel like because I have a husband and healthy kids, I should be a wealth of gratitude all the time.
I don’t allow myself any moments of complaining because of this “I have it good” mentality
or the fact that I’m supposed to “enjoy every second” even when I’m slipping.
But honestly, the good things ARE the hard things.
The things that make me the happiest in this life also make me the most angry.
And my sadness surrounding these things at times doesn’t make me any less thankful.
I’m not sick. I’m not undergoing trauma. I’m not physically hurting,
and so I suck it up because there are real people going through real things and I’m not supposed to be sad. I’m supposed to be okay.
But these good things?
This mom thing? This wife thing?
This adult thing? This life thing?
Like, really hard.
And the world is only going to put you down more for feeling less than.
So I’ll probably drive home in a moment.
I feel better already, really. I’m not even considering driving to the beach anymore or disappearing.
But if those good things in your life are weighing on you, just know that good doesn’t equal easy.
It’s okay to want things and simultaneously be frustrated by them.
It’s okay to get what you want and be totally blindsided by parts of it.
You are not a machine. You’re not a fortune teller. You’re not God. You’re only human.
Before you put your big girl panties back on, take some time. Take a drive. Pray. Cry. Order a large Cherry Vanilla Coke with Lime.
All good things are hard sometimes.
This story originally appeared on Trains and Tantrums