Sorry my crazy is showing
I started writing this in my sleep the other night. It lead into one of the weirder dreams I have had lately. Upon waking up, like actually waking up, I realized a few things.
The first thing I realized, is I hadn't taken my meds in almost a week. The voice in my head that tells me everyone is out to get me, and that my house is infested with mice was back in full force. It's an angry little monster that makes me wish I was dead. I'm passively suicidal, meaning, really I just want to die, I have no intention of actually doing it, I just wish I was.
The second thing I realized was that I was sad, and avoiding Grandma Rosie because I missed Grampa Lenny. I don't know if anybody is ever going to understand ( well besides my mom, and my husband) how much it meant to me to be able to call Lenny Grampa Lenny. I have already lost my actual Grandfathers. One I don't miss, I know that sounds horrible, but I am pretty sure he never really actually loved me and it was all out of obligation. My other Grampa, was my Grampa. I loved that man, he was my first knight, and I learned a lot from him. Then came Lenny, he filled that void I didn't know I missed. Now I lost him. It's feeling all these feels all over again, and then missing two great men.
Then we get to the second heaviest thing on my plate. My brother who is younger then me, who is 29, who has heart problems, came as close to the edge of being added into the category of missing to great men as I ever want him to be in my lifetime. I reached a point last week where I was so sad that here I am, relatively healthy, and there he is. As an older sister, ( well I'm not sure if it's normal or not) all I wanted to do was fix it. I am pretty sure at one point I started talking out loud to myself ( see above to number one) and I started to barter, okay I will take this, and he will be better, like a Dear Universe make me sick and him better kind of conversation. In the end I KNOW this isn't how life works but in the moment, I felt helpless, and damn it, it was worth a shot.
The biggest and heaviest thing on my plate, I can't really get into details. So forgive the vagueness of this section. Sometimes being a parent is hard. Sometimes you can't fix everything. Sometimes there is a point in life, when you have to hand some of the things off from your plate to someone else. Life in the trenches of having more then one child who is special needs is hard. We fight battles behind closed doors, afraid to let others in because we don't want the finger pointed back at us.
So many times I am told, do this, try that, it's you. Fix you. Well when all that fails, then the people with their fancy degrees, they get to tap out. When do I get to tap out? I don't.
So I fight this battle, with my small trusted circle. I wait for the scars, and not all are metaphorical to heal. I get told in my weakest moments my crazy is showing.
Here's the thing. I don't get to tap out. So if I cry in the shower, or eat dinner in bed, I don't care. I am trying to survive. I have three kids. We have demanding schedules, and many things go on that you won't find in every household. I get a lot of grief, from a lot of different places, because they don't understand. I don't get to tap out, walk away, quit, or give up.
So here I am, with my crazy flag a flying, hiding in the weeds that have grown in trenches, because well I am still here, just trying to survive.
The first thing I realized, is I hadn't taken my meds in almost a week. The voice in my head that tells me everyone is out to get me, and that my house is infested with mice was back in full force. It's an angry little monster that makes me wish I was dead. I'm passively suicidal, meaning, really I just want to die, I have no intention of actually doing it, I just wish I was.
The second thing I realized was that I was sad, and avoiding Grandma Rosie because I missed Grampa Lenny. I don't know if anybody is ever going to understand ( well besides my mom, and my husband) how much it meant to me to be able to call Lenny Grampa Lenny. I have already lost my actual Grandfathers. One I don't miss, I know that sounds horrible, but I am pretty sure he never really actually loved me and it was all out of obligation. My other Grampa, was my Grampa. I loved that man, he was my first knight, and I learned a lot from him. Then came Lenny, he filled that void I didn't know I missed. Now I lost him. It's feeling all these feels all over again, and then missing two great men.
Then we get to the second heaviest thing on my plate. My brother who is younger then me, who is 29, who has heart problems, came as close to the edge of being added into the category of missing to great men as I ever want him to be in my lifetime. I reached a point last week where I was so sad that here I am, relatively healthy, and there he is. As an older sister, ( well I'm not sure if it's normal or not) all I wanted to do was fix it. I am pretty sure at one point I started talking out loud to myself ( see above to number one) and I started to barter, okay I will take this, and he will be better, like a Dear Universe make me sick and him better kind of conversation. In the end I KNOW this isn't how life works but in the moment, I felt helpless, and damn it, it was worth a shot.
The biggest and heaviest thing on my plate, I can't really get into details. So forgive the vagueness of this section. Sometimes being a parent is hard. Sometimes you can't fix everything. Sometimes there is a point in life, when you have to hand some of the things off from your plate to someone else. Life in the trenches of having more then one child who is special needs is hard. We fight battles behind closed doors, afraid to let others in because we don't want the finger pointed back at us.
So many times I am told, do this, try that, it's you. Fix you. Well when all that fails, then the people with their fancy degrees, they get to tap out. When do I get to tap out? I don't.
So I fight this battle, with my small trusted circle. I wait for the scars, and not all are metaphorical to heal. I get told in my weakest moments my crazy is showing.
Here's the thing. I don't get to tap out. So if I cry in the shower, or eat dinner in bed, I don't care. I am trying to survive. I have three kids. We have demanding schedules, and many things go on that you won't find in every household. I get a lot of grief, from a lot of different places, because they don't understand. I don't get to tap out, walk away, quit, or give up.
So here I am, with my crazy flag a flying, hiding in the weeds that have grown in trenches, because well I am still here, just trying to survive.
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