З життя
Мені 47, але я втратила смак до життя…
Мені 47, і вже ніщо не радує, як колись…
Жінки працюють не одну зміну, а одразу дві: спочатку на роботі, потім вдома. Ми тягнемо на собі все — дітей, побут, батьків, нескінченні клопоти. Посміхаємось, тримаємось, а потім настає момент, коли просто ламає. Ти ще не стара за віком, але сил не лишилось ні на що. Всередині — пустота, ніби вигоріла дотла.
Іноді думаю: може, пенсію недарма придумали? Але чому так пізно? Як на неї виживати, якщо навіть із зарплати ледве викручуєшся, а відпочити хочеться вже зараз…
Читала чимало історій, де жінки на пенсії «розквітають»: вчаться, мандрують, знаходять хобі чи навіть кохання. Звідки в них сили? Не розумію.
Мені 47. У мене гарна родина, двоє синів. Але я більше нічого не хочу. Серйозно. Не радію ранкам, не мрію, не будую планів. Єдине, про що думаю вранці — як дотягну до вечора. Може, це наслідки пізнього материнства. Першого сина народила в 35, другого — в 39. Зараз одному дев’ять, інший — майже підліток. А я відчуваю себе старою.
Прокидаюся — і відразу біганина: сніданок, збори до школи, перевірка рюкзаків, потім робота. Працюю в продажах: дзвінки, зустрічі, презентації, документи. Навіть коли робочий день скінчився, я не вимкнуся — бо раптом кліент зателефонує? Може о шостій, може о дев’ятій — я завжди на зв’язку. А далі — домашні справи: уроки, прання, вечеря, підготувати одяг, ще й у шкільному чаті десятки повідомлень. Треба бути в курсі всього.
Не пам’ятаю, коли справді відпочивала. Є відпустка — два тижні на рік. Але вони йдуть на те, щоб розібрати завали: щось оформити, комусь допомогти. Після неї повертаюся ще виснаженішою.
Чоловік є. Він старається, допомагає. Але це не рятує, бо всі думки й клопоти — все одно на мені. У голові — щоденник із сотнею справ, а в серці — тривога. Втома. І грошей не вистачає. Ми не бідні, але й не багаті. Звичайна родина. Навіть поїздка до озера — вже розкіш.
На себе часу нема. Ще й батьки в літах — вони не можуть доглядати онуків, здоров’я не те. Я їм теж підтримка. А вони часом виглядають бадьоріше за мене. Посміхаюся, прикидаюсь сильною… але всередині — нічого.
Чому так? Чому інші жінки щасливі, сміються, подорожують, а я — вигоріла? Може, я не вмію жити? Можете порадити «розслабитися», але коли? У вихідні — знову справи.
Коли це скінчиться? Не знаю. Можливо, інші знайшли свій шлях. А я… я просто дуже втомилась.
Буває так у вас? Чи це лише в мене?
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