For the Tired Ones: • Why Calm Feels Uncomfortable • I Can't Afford to Leave

No One to Pass the Baton To: For the Single Mum Who's Tired of Doing It All Alone

Every night, it's the same. You finally get them down, the house goes quiet… and you fall into bed completely wrung out. Too tired to sleep, too wired to rest. Just lying there, a bit zoned out, running on the very last of the fumes.

And tomorrow you'll get up and do it all again. Because there's no one to pass the baton to.

If that's you, most nights, I want to tell you something that no to-do list or "self-care tip" ever will: you are not failing. You're doing a job built for two people, with one set of hands. Let's talk about it honestly.

It's Not Just Tired. It's a Different Kind of Empty.

Here's the bit that matters: what you're feeling isn't ordinary tiredness, the kind a good night's sleep fixes. It's deeper than that, because the thing draining you doesn't clock off when you close your eyes.

You're the only wage. The only lift. The only one who can't afford to get ill. The only one who hears "Mum" at 2am. The only one who knows where the PE kit is, when the form's due, what's for tea, and that you're nearly out of milk. It's not just the doing — it's the endless carrying of every single thing in your head, with nobody to hand half of it to. That's called the mental load, and you're carrying a double one.

So of course you lie there at night unable to switch off. When you're the only one on watch, your body never gets the signal that it's safe to stand down. You're tired and wired, because some part of you is still on duty even in bed — because it always is. There's no "off" when you're the only one on.

One Person Cannot Do the Work of Two. That's Just Maths.

I need you to really hear this one, because it'll take a weight off: a home, a job, and raising kids was designed to be more than one person's load. You're not struggling because you're weak, disorganised, or not trying hard enough. You're struggling because you're under-resourced and over-stretched — doing a two-person job solo.

That's not a flaw in you. That's just the sum not adding up — and no amount of "better time management" changes the fact that there's one of you and the work of two. So please stop measuring yourself against a standard that assumed there'd be two sets of hands. You're not coming up short. You're doing the impossible, daily, and mostly pulling it off.

That Guilt You Feel? Let Me Take Some of It.

When you snap because someone asked you for the fifth thing in two minutes. When you forget the thing, put the cereal in the fridge, sit in the car for a minute before you can face going in. When you feel like you're failing them because you're running on empty.

None of that makes you a bad mum. It makes you an exhausted one — which is a completely different thing. Snapping and forgetting and fraying at the edges aren't character flaws; they're the totally normal signs of a nervous system that's been asked to give more than any one person has to give. And here's the truth your kids already know better than you do: they don't need a perfect, endlessly patient, never-tired mum. They need you. And they've got you — showing up every single day, often on fumes. "Good enough" isn't the consolation prize. It's genuinely the whole thing.

So Here's Your Permission Slip

You can't conjure a second pair of hands. But you can stop carrying it quite so alone, and quite so perfectly. Small things, that actually help:

1 Drop the bottom of the list

The list never ends — you will never reach "all done," and that's not a personal failing, that's just the nature of it. So split it into "today" and "not today," and let the not-today pile wait without guilt. Done beats perfect. The washing will keep.

2 You don't have to earn rest

Rest isn't a prize you get once everything's finished — because it never is finished. Tiny pockets of nothing, claimed on purpose, aren't lazy. They're the only way the fumes ever top back up. Five minutes with a brew, sat down, counts.

3 Build the circle that fits your life now

Maybe the old crowd drifted when you became "the single one." That happens, and it stings — but it doesn't mean you're alone. Find the people who get this life: other single mums, a good neighbour, a sister, a school-gate ally. A different circle, but a real one. Isolation feeds the heaviness; connection starves it.

4 Ask for help — it isn't weakness

The school run swap, the "can you have mine for an hour," the honest "I'm drowning a bit this week." People who care often want to help and just don't know you need it, because you're so good at coping. Let one thing be someone else's job, just now and then.

It Won't Always Be This Heavy

The stage you're in — the little-hands, no-sleep, need-you-for-everything stage — is genuinely one of the heaviest there is, and it does not last forever. The load lightens as they grow. The baton gets a bit easier to carry. One day you'll get a full night's sleep and barely believe it.

And in the meantime, please remember you are one of the people in this family who matters. Not just the engine that keeps it all running — a whole person, who's allowed to be tired, allowed to need help, and allowed to be looked after too, even if right now the only one doing the looking-after is you, being a bit gentler with yourself.

You're not doing it badly. You're doing it alone — which is the hardest way there is. And you're still here, still showing up. That's not failing. That's extraordinary.

Love, Vikki x

Frequently Asked Questions

Why am I so exhausted as a single mum? +

Because you're one person doing a job that was built for two, with no one to share the load or take a turn. It isn't just the physical tasks — it's the mental load of being the only one who remembers, decides, earns, comforts and plans, all day every day, with no off switch. That kind of exhaustion doesn't lift with one good night's sleep, because the thing draining you doesn't stop when you close your eyes. You're not weak or failing; you're under-resourced and over-stretched, and that's a completely understandable way to end up wrung out.

Why can't I relax even when I finally get a moment? +

Because when you're the only one on duty, your nervous system never fully stands down — it stays switched on, scanning for the next thing, even when you finally lie down. So you end up tired but wired: too exhausted to function, too on-edge to properly rest. That's not you being bad at relaxing; it's a body that hasn't had anyone to share the watch with, so it never feels safe enough to switch off. It eases when you get even small pockets of genuine support and rest.

Does being a single mum make you a worse parent? +

No. Being tired, stretched and occasionally snappy doesn't make you a bad mum — it makes you a human being carrying double. Your kids don't need a perfect, endlessly patient parent; they need you, and you're already showing up every single day, often on empty. "Good enough" parenting isn't a consolation prize — it's genuinely what children need. The guilt you feel is a sign of how much you care, not evidence that you're failing.

How do I cope as a single mum with no help? +

Start by letting go of the idea that you have to do it all perfectly — drop the bottom of the to-do list and let "done" beat "perfect". Build a support circle that fits your life now, even if it looks different from before: other single mums, a trusted neighbour, a sister, a school-gate friend. Ask for help where you can, because needing it isn't weakness. And protect tiny pockets of rest as non-negotiable, not as a reward you have to earn. You matter too, and looking after yourself is part of looking after them.

When does single parent exhaustion become something more serious? +

Everyday exhaustion is heavy but tends to lift a little with rest and support. If the heaviness doesn't budge even on a genuinely good day, if you've lost interest in nearly everything, if you feel hopeless or numb, or if you're struggling to function, that can be a sign of depression rather than ordinary tiredness — and it deserves real support, not just pushing through. Speaking to your GP or a counsellor isn't a failure; it's one of the most responsible, loving things you can do for yourself and your kids.

More on the blog:
• Why Calm Feels Uncomfortable When You're Used to Chaos
• The Running Away Fund
• Wear the Dress
• Explore all posts

A gentle note: This is warmth and lived solidarity from one tired woman to another — not professional advice. Single-parent exhaustion is real, and so is your strength in carrying it. But if the heaviness never lifts, even on a good day — if you feel numb, hopeless, or like you can't go on — please treat that as a signal to reach out, because it may be more than tiredness and it's very treatable. In the UK you can talk to your GP, self-refer to NHS Talking Therapies, or call Samaritans free any time on 116 123. Single doesn't mean alone, and asking for support is one of the strongest things you'll ever do.