let’s talk: lesson from a broken iPad



I apologize in advance for being a downer today.

I write this blog to be a personal outlet, a place where I can be honest and talk about anything and everything that I feel when I feel it. While most days that means indulging in the positive and the whimsical and the creative, there are days when I am not any of those things. Today is one of those days.

 When things got hard earlier this year, I comforted myself the only way I knew how: by putting my head down and making it work. I like to think that I’ve got that same resiliency in me that my parents had, that my grandparents had. What we’re going through now is in no way as hard as they had it or as  many other people have it, and I like to think that I’m made of equally stern stuff. And so though things got tighter and juggling got harder and plans got put on hold, I clenched my teeth, lifted my chin, banked my disappointment, and kept on going.

And I thought I was fine. I’m in perfect health, I have everything I need, and I’ve learned a lot the past six months that I wouldn’t have learned if things were easier. Namely, that I really meant it when I said “yes” when I got engaged, come hell or high water; that I don’t wither when the going gets tough; that I really am making it.

But what I didn’t learn to do was to let myself not feel fine about it.

When my iPad (of all things!) was broken last night, it was like that proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Looking at the blue screen of death just punctuated the general feeling of being adrift and powerless the majority of this year. The feeling that you’re doing the best you can, you’re doing all the right things, you’re working hard, you’re being a good person, and yet, yet things don’t work out. iPads get broken. Things you value get broken. Plans get broken. People you love get broken. You get broken.

  To be clear, I am not quitting, I am not throwing in the towel, I am making it work, I will keep on praying, I will keep on keeping on.

But I’m sad, angry, ashamed, upset, frustrated, and exhausted about it all.

And I’m sad, angry, ashamed, upset, frustrated, and exhausted about being sad, angry, ashamed, upset, frustrated, and exhausted about it all.

That’s the truth. That’s honest. That’s how I feel today, right now.

Thank you for reading.

5 thoughts on “let’s talk: lesson from a broken iPad

  1. trishryanonline

    I’m a bit late reading this, but wow do I know that feeling. You express it beautifully – both the determined “make it work” side that would make Tim Gunn proud…and the “this sucks incredibly” side that is so hard to articulate bc you feel like you might drown the world if you acknowledge the truth. Well done. It gets better.

  2. Pingback: let’s talk: starting somewhere | short&lovely

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