“Best of Intentions?”, “Homeschool Part 2?”, or “Really?….No Crap?”

Which title fits this post the best? You decide.

I had big plans to write here more often in 2019.  I planned to chronicle my crawl back to … I don’t know where.  Maybe just my crawl forward…. but as always life gets in the way. First we went on a family vacation- which was nice.  It’s been a long time.  Then there was getting back into the swing of things, and finally last week was the week of appointments with a snow day smack dab in the middle of the week. Fun.

Last week… ugh.  Started bright and early Monday morning with an appointment with the endocrinologist who officially diagnosed me with type 2 diabetes.  Meds, meter, set me up with an appointment to see the nutritionist, have I heard of Keto?, lose weight.  (insert eye roll).  Tuesday morning saw Princess Glitter Sparkle- yes still seeing her, still loving her, though she did suggest I keep a gratitude journal (ugggghhhh fine… but I don’t have to like it– yes I am wicked pissy lately).  Then straight to Big One’s counselor who expressed his concern about Big One’s depression- we are too, trying to get a handle on what will help.  A short lunch break and off to Little One’s counselor.  I was sure making the rounds that day. (insert BIG eye roll here).  Wednesday plans (more appointments) came to screeching halt with a snow day…. yay?!?! Thursday trip to see the ENT for a hearing test referral to HOPEFULLY get to the bottom of the ringing in my ears that is threatening to put me in the looney bin faster than my life will.  He said it’s either hearing loss or… wait for it…. who the heck knows why ringing and either way there may or may not be anything that we can do for it??!?!?! If there is significant hearing loss I can fix it or live with it.  And if it’s unknown reason well I have to live with it. (Gosh I love being me).  After that went to Mary Poppins.  Still love her.  She wants to keep on keeping on regarding meds for now.  Im good with that.  Something stable right?  After her I met with my case manager – I need to come up with a name for her.  She drives me crazy.  I don’t think I like her.  Of course it could be that she handed me a big packet of articles about exercise, weight loss etc.  (bang head on wall).  Final visit rounding out the week was my urologist.  I’ll spare you the gory details, but his parting words were- “any extra weight we carry makes things worse”

I GET IT ALREADY IM FAT I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT.  I get it.  I do.  I know that losing weight will make certain medical things better.  But I just can’t seem to get motivated to do that.  I want to say I need to get my head in order but really will there ever be a time where my head is in order and I am ready to lose weight? Who knows.  I KNOW I need to be the “no excuses” girl I was 5 years ago.  Sometimes I wish I could find her again.  Though I will admit there were things about her that I could live without… but that’s a topic for another day.

So let’s see that covers “Best of Intentions” and “Really?….No Crap?”… onto Homeschool Part 2.

I already mentioned we were going to be homeschooling Little One.  We started that last week in the midst of appointment-hell.  It went well so far.  She’s been happy to do her work, and seems to be enjoying what she is studying.  But Friday night things came to a head with Big One.  He’s been struggling… socially horribly all year… and it’s affecting his mood- obviously – he’s so depressed (as I mentioned above), and it’s affecting his grades.  Not cool.  He’s getting an F and a C-.  Not cool at all.  But Friday he got an email from his co-leader of the club he started at school, basically telling him that he was no longer a leader because he didn’t do enough behind the scenes things, and moreover that they weren’t friends anymore…. for basically all the issues that a child with Autism has—- self preoccupation, not thinking about how others are feeling, etc etc etc.  HE CANT HELP IT.  I wish I could scream that from the rooftops.  HE CAN NOT HELP THE WAY HE IS. We have worked on this stuff for… forever…. there is only so much we can do.

I don’t get it, with all the talk these days about tolerance, acceptance etc why is it ok for people to not be that way to people like him?  I can’t even.

So Friday night he got this email, and he lost it.  He yelled, he screamed.  He said he wouldn’t go back to school and he didn’t care who we called- crisis, the police he didn’t care.  But worst of all?  He sobbed and sobbed.  Uncontrollably.  My baby boy just shut down and cried.  I haven’t seen him do that in years.   YEARS.  My heart broke, and I wanted blood.  Of course I told him he didn’t have to go back to a place that has done this to him.

Insert note- I may or may not have had a PTSD moment bringing me back to my sophomore year when I was the child sobbing- into my pillow- and wishing I didn’t have to go back—

So we have been researching Charter Schools, but it’s hard mid-year.  So we may be homeschooling him for the remainder of the year as well as Little One.  That will bet interesting with my 4 classes.  But I know God will get us through it all.  But all I know is that I WILL protect my kids, no matter what.  And if that means discomfort for me, so be it.  I will take a much harder hit to my mental health if something were to cause my son to do something drastic… or even if he continued to be so unhappy.  So judge me if you will.  Some will.  Some will say I made the wrong decision.  Some will say he needs to be in school to get used to the “real world”.  And to them I say- until you have seen your 15.5 year old son turn into a little boy rocking in your arms crying and sobbing, don’t judge me.

Until next time- (which I hope is sooner rather than later)

Why is it always the same?

I started Lyrica the other day. It sucks. It’s not helping the widespread pain and I think it’s making me more depressed (if that’s even possible).

The freaking ringing in my ears can stop at anytime. I am seriously ready to just take a screwdriver to each ear and make myself deaf. If you want to know what it sounds like EVERYDAY, ALL DAY visit this link https://www.hear-it.org/Impressions-of-hearing-loss-and-Tinnitus- and click on Tinnitus example 1. It’s the buzz over the music. Imagine that loud 24/7. It’s maddening. I probably will wind up in a looney bin.

On top of all of this, we are supposed to be getting a new furnace through our local community action facility (basically helps poor people with things- yes I’m poor. ). But it isn’t coming until January. Our back up heat – the woodstove- is all well and good but we have MAYBE 2 days of wood left. No agencies around here can help until January. I had saved some money for the past couple months for an activity we are doing in January and wood is now going to take most of it. We started this furnace process in August. I’m praying the company can come before January- this stinks.

Basically everything sucks and is overwhelming. This is also the last 2 weeks of classes and the depression has zapped all motivation to finish this semester strong.

Pray that I can get through this all, if you are the praying type.

Until next time….

29 minutes…

Twenty-nine minutes until the IEP meeting for little one.  I am a nervous wreck.  This was not the time to take me off my Benzos- holidays where I have to be around people, IEP meetings…. I am just on my way to losing it…. some more than I already have.  I don’t know why I am so scared of this stupid meeting.  I am pretty sure it’s just to discuss why I want the evals I want.  But still….

Do you have that small voice?

Do you have that small voice in your head? You know the one that seems to wake up at bedtime and say “hey, you haven’t thought about <insert some worrisome thing here> in a while, let’s revisit that right now”.

Why???? Why must my brain constantly sabotage me? As if I don’t have enough on my plate- IEP for little one in 11hrs 29 mins… but who is counting…. oh yeah – me. Going in with my gloves on, but in truth- if they don’t give her what she needs I am probably done. I’ll take her out of school and homeschool her again. I know there are people who won’t support that decision but they don’t have to watch their child come home from school and lose it for most of the night because they held it together as best they could all day. I don’t know, little one could go one way or another if I pull her out she may be for it or against l. But I think it’s something her dad and I are going to have to think about and decide by Christmas.

29 days.

Posts I never post….

Do you ever pour your heart out into a post and never post it? Just save it to a draft and stuff the feelings down? I do.

Where have I been?

Well, where HAVE I been? Trudging along; one baby step in front of the next.

I have more on my plate than I can possibly handle and it’s rearing it’s ugly head in my life in ways that increase my symptoms. I fly off the handle, constantly, at those who I love most. I’m tired. My feelings toward myself are the lowest they’ve been in a while.

I lose my patience with everyone- especially my children. And then I hate myself. I try so hard, do so well then become unraveled at bedtime and become a tyrant.

So many days I want to just pack up and leave. I’ve thought a lot about that in the past week. I suck at taking care of people, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better

I just went back and read the last post I wrote, and I’m stuck there. I’m still thinking about “shining” every.single.day. And the closer we get to the anniversary of my “breakdown” the more edgy I get.

There have been some issues with little one at school and I find myself in the middle of a battle with the School AGAIN. And that brings my PTSD screaming back like a maniac which puts me in fight or flight with the very people I’m trying to help.

I’m useless. I say hurtful things. That’s the hardest part. That’s the part that makes me just want to lay in the road and die. I’m just a failure- just like my family believes- they’ve always been right about me- I should just accept it.

Broken…. A Poem

Please, don’t judge, there is really no structure to this poem, but it’s not a story, or a “post”.  But tonight was a really bad night, and I let my pen just scrawl along. 

Broken.

I feel the familiar “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” of the blood in my ears.

My heart is racing, pulse is 120.

There’s a buzzing in my body.

I’m sweating, everywhere, even my legs.

My brain is going to dark, dark, places.

I want to see the red blood coming out of my arms.

I want to see the raised skin of the scratch.

I want to feel the sting and burn of the cuts.

I want my brain to stop.

FAT, UGLY, HIDEOUS, GROSS.

Bad mom, yeller, ineffective.

Bad wife, “makes” hubby do all the cooking and clean

up from meals, undermines his discipline.

LOSER, CAN’T FINISH ANYTHING, STUPID

Will never change.

Always a victim.

Don’t SHINE, am a disappointment.

Not good enough, NEVER enough.

Undermines my own dreams.

I sit, tears brimming, threatening to spill over.

I sit at my desk all the things I used to use to cut at my disposal.

But I can’t cut, no matter how much I want to, I’m on blood thinners. I don’t want to ruin my kids’ life any more than I already have.

So I push it down, down, down.  The whooshing, shaking, and sweating gets worse. My head pounds too.

How long can I do this? How long will I have to do this?

No one is going to save me, or the little girl inside.  Together we will drown and choke on our labels; the labels of rejection and the labels we give ourselves.  Never truly happy; never truly whole—

Broken.