Broken Juggler

Not completely broken. Not even as broken as I have been.
But chipped. A big chip.
But fixable.
I hope.

Three areas I feel I have to keep the balls juggling.
You get into a rhythm. Where they are all settled and working well. Ok they could each do with improvement but are steady at least.

And then...one becomes too much.
Through absolutely no fault of your own.
And you are juggling 2 balls. Trying to get that third one back, but wondering if it's worth it anymore.
If the effort of juggling it is worth it.

Worth the time. Effort. Passion. The wasted hours. The wasted thoughts. The wasted moments when you think about it too much, you put into it far more than you get out. And then the cracks start to show.
You make others aware, help me mend myself. Please.
And although help is there.
It doesn't happen.
And you keep trying.
Keep. On. Trying.
I. Can. Do. This.

The energy is drained.
There is little left.
The heart and head says one thing. The gut says another.
But how long do you carry on until it's too much?
Until it affects your everyday life.
When you realise that things seem to be different for you. And 'fair' doesn't come in to play...when it comes to you.

The cracks soon get bigger. A dent.
To the passion.
The pride.
The confidence.
The feeling of "I am good at this. I am worthy. I make a difference" soon becomes "Why the hell am I doing so much for so little?"

How many times do you attempt to fix it?
How many times do you attempt to carry on?
How long do you let things affect other areas of your life?
How many times do you repair yourself?

Repair the cracks.
The breaks.
The dents.

How many times do you drop everything? All the balls. Pick them up and try again.
The balance.
The juggle. 


I saw a post on LinkedIn recently that really hit home to me. It was a lady talking about her two grown up sons, one who lives away from hom...