Brought to My Knees — But Not Giving Up

Lately, I’ve felt alone.

Not because no one is around — but because the weight I’m carrying feels invisible. Financial stress. Grief. Worry. Exhaustion. The kind of weight that doesn’t show up on the outside but sits heavy in your chest.

It all started with work. November and December were slow. I used every bit of time I had just trying to survive. Already, I felt behind before everything else even began.

Then my dog got sick. The worry of watching him struggle broke something in me I wasn’t prepared to lose. Two weeks ago, I had to say goodbye to him. The house feels quieter, different. I hold my other beagle tighter now, the last piece of comfort I can cling to.

Around the same time, my adult son Austin began experiencing ringing in his ears. For weeks, the anxiety built his fear that it would never go away, my fear for him, my panic trying to stay calm while watching him spiral.

Then my other adult son Skylar was diagnosed with Bell’s palsy. Seeing him go through something scary, and uncertain…seeing his face change, it brought me to my knees.

This past week, Austin, the one with the ringing in his ears had his heart rate spike. Panic set in. Anxiety took over. Old trauma returned: two years ago, myocarditis put us through a nightmare I still haven’t fully processed. Watching his heart race, hearing his fear, reliving that trauma… it drained me completely.

Then there’s my adult daughter Kira, dealing with thyroid issues, living almost three hours away. I can’t just drive over to check on her, and that distance magnifies the worry. And my oldest adult son Justin, I worry about him simply because I love him. That’s what motherhood is: carrying pieces of your heart walking around outside your body, no matter how old they are.

Then there’s work. We are slow again, we may only work three days, maybe two if the work runs out... with the constant pressure of bills looming over every choice I make. Choosing between food or bills, loans or bills, trying to figure out what can wait without everything collapsing.

In the middle of all this, I had my own scare. I went for a mammogram and now have to go back for a second one. Waiting. Wondering. Trying not to let my mind run ahead. Acting strong while quietly asking myself, “What if?” As well as waiting on Thyroid ultrasound results. Then came the unexpected: I broke my front tooth. Seeing the dentist and hearing that it would cost $17,000 to fix it felt like another punch in a year that never lets up. Financial stress piled on top of everything else, heavier than I could have imagined.

I wake up with tension headaches. My shoulders feel like they’re carrying bricks. Some mornings I try to wake up positive, telling myself I’m going to work on my podcast, get back into the music, focus on the bands, reconnect with the part of me that feels alive.

Instead, some days I listen to music… and then I just want to lay on the couch and watch a movie and forget the world for a while.

And the guilt creeps in.

The voice that says:

You should be stronger.

You should be doing more.

You shouldn’t be this far behind.

But here’s what I’m learning in the middle of all this:

I’m not weak.

I’m worn down.

I’m not useless.

I’m overwhelmed.

The past few months would have shaken anyone. Financial stress alone is heavy. Add in back-to-back health scares with my adult children. Add grief. Add waiting on your own medical follow-up. Add the dentist hitting you with $17,000. Add exhaustion. Of course I feel tired.

Strong people get brought to their knees sometimes.

But being on your knees isn’t the same as giving up.

Music is still in me.

The passion for bands is still in me.

The dream is still there.

It’s just buried under survival mode right now.

Maybe digging out of this rut doesn’t mean climbing the entire mountain today. Maybe it means resting without shame. Maybe it means one small step back toward what makes me feel like me.

One idea.

One post.

One conversation.

One song.

I may feel alone some days.

I may feel overwhelmed.

But I am still here.

And as long as I am still here.... still loving, still dreaming, still fighting.... this season does not get to be the end of my story.

Peace, Love and Loud Music

Mickey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LypjOTTH6E

Fits perfectly with me.