Well this was unexpected. After just over a year I find myself in the earliest hours of the morning writing to you once again. Exhausted and battered – here I am.
I also write to you feeling torn. On one hand I never want to use this public space as a personal journal, but on the other hand this blog was built on the back of my own vulnerability.
A vulnerability that I want to keep using to help others, such as you. Because I know too well how us therapists will feel compelled to hide our own struggles.
After all, the client comes first – “do no harm”.
However, it’s in the most challenging times that I do my best to draw on anything that can help – to lean on my values as much as possible. Which is why, as I lay here surrounded by darkness of night, this blog has been recalled into action. If only for today.
To say that 2025 was the craziest of my life, would feel like the understatement of the century.
The universe gave the most potent dose of joy, in that my son was born (our first child).
He’s cute too. A Huggies baby. I won’t share a photo so publicly, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
But it was never going to be that simple. For the universe demands balance.
You get your perfect baby, but everything else is going to suck. While our son has been our miracle of joy – our ultimate gift – everything else in our life since has been near total chaos.
Tiring. Exhausting. I have never been this burnt out.
I would normally end with a call to action to you, but instead, I’m hoping you can offer it to me. I’d be forever grateful for any words of encouragement, advice, story swaps or just positive energy – if you have them.
And there you have it, my determination to use this situation for good. I’m so used to offering others what I can in their 50 minutes of need. But now it’s time for me flip the script and to ask you, dear reader, for anything you might be able to offer me, in my own time of need.
Deliberate Practice Psych 
8 responses to “A miracle wrapped in a nightmare”
Hey Jim
Good to hear from you though it sounds like very difficult circumstances for you right now.
Words of wisdom?
“Doing our best” you said. That’s all you can do, but beware that voice which may try and tell you that’s not enough. You have your limits, and you must find a way of creating little oases of quiet for yourself.
What would you be telling a client? Something like that I imagine?
Having been through some difficult family issues with both my own and my wife’s families, I can tell you that old trope is true – “this too will pass.” For now just do what you need to, to get yourself and your wife and kid through it.
Final thought… you know this I’m sure but remember that your family are not like your clients, and there needs to be space for your needs in there somewhere too. Final, final thought …. you know that family dynamics come freighted with expectations that can really push our buttons. If that’s the case for you and your wife, try to hang on to that level of awareness of ‘what’s going on here…?’ it may help a little.
This too will pass my friend – take care
Barry
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Thank you Barry – I appreciate it 🙂 Managed to figure some things out to make things a little easier, which should help with self-care too. But the main thing is finding reminders that the current situation is temporary – which I appreciate you bringing up. I can tell myself that but it’s still helpful to hear it.
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You don’t write much about your situation, so it is hard to offer anything concrete. I just wanted to say that, as a father of two, I have never been as exhausted as when they were babies. In my experience this gets a lot better as soon as the kids become a few years old. I think it just about “embracing the suck” while it lasts, and remember that most of the time it gets easier.
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Thank you Jan-Fredrik. I had to edit it back for privacy, but even without the detail – your insight is still helpful. It can be tricky to fully imagine the ways in which it’ll get easier as my son ages (as I haven’t experienced it yet), but it’s still helpful to hear from someone who has been through it.
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It really is amazing to see your openness Jimeoin. My heart breaks hearing the difficulties you’ve been going through over the last year. I genuinely from the bottom of my heart wish you well. You’ve helped me learn many things from your blog and regular emails. Life certainly has its way of throwing us challenges, with some seemingly insurmountable. I hope and trust you will continue to recognise both the wonders and pains of your journey. I know well that you are substantially more capable than you may feel right now in this exhausting darkness.
From a random stranger on the internet who wants you to know you are authentic, insightful, and very much irreplaceable.
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Thank you Riley – I appreciate the kind words 🙂 I’m already feeling better than last week. Some extra time off helped, but had some ideas which I think will help things further. Some of which I might share on this site.
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Dear Jimeoin
Your experience really struck a chord with me. That sounds really rough. I’m moved by the way you’ve reached out. There is something so very touching about naming exhaustion and burnout, especially in a space where you’ve been the one offering something to others.
It’s funny how this medium works — I’ve read your blog for a while and somehow feel a sense of knowing you through your reflections and methodical approach to the work- which I really admire. I was bummed when you stepped back from writing, though I completely understood. Energy is finite, and there are seasons that ask more of that.
I know you don’t know me at all but I want you to know that I hear you.
Our circumstances are different, yet the sentiment feels familiar. I’ve been there too, in that place where life gives something so precious and then seems to ask more than feels reasonable at the same time. That place where it feels like you’ve nothing left.
I don’t have profound wisdom to offer, but I do want you to know that your words landed. You’re not shouting into the void. You’re not alone in this. There is something deeply human — and deeply connecting— about allowing others to witness you when you’re spent.
My hope for you is that rest finds you in small pockets, that support arrives in unexpected forms, and that you’re reminded you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. May you feel the support of community, spirituality and common humanity. We aren’t meant to suffer and endure in isolation. You’re very much in my thoughts and prayers, and I’m sending you steadiness, gentleness, and whatever quiet strength is needed to keep moving through this moment.
Warm Regards
Ester
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Thank you Ester 🙂 For reaching out and for your kindness in doing so. While I know that circumstances are always different, it still gives me some more strength to know that there are people such as you out there, that have been through similar points in life and offering hope as well. Every bit helps – so thank you.
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