Excessively Worn Out

Tonight, I return to this not-funny blog to write things. It’s been an emotional weekend for a bunch of reasons, none of which I will discuss here. Some were happy/thankful emotions, and some were the opposite. It was spectrum-y, you could say (as my cousin Melissa DOES say). Tonight the not happy/not thankful emotions seem to be winning.

Jack’s ear is infected and he has strep. He may have had it for several days before we got it diagnosed and treated. This is a recurring issue—my stupidity in figuring out when my nonverbal child is sick. He can be sick for the better part of a week because it’s really tough to distinguish between bad behavior and sick behavior. I seem to be especially dense in this area. I need a pediatrician to board in the basement so we can borrow his or her diagnostic and prescribing skills at all hours, including holidays.

And I’m assuming my brain is fried at this point, because a) I don’t care about anything and b) all the usual helps aren’t doing it for me. I did watch the complete 2011 version of Jane Eyre, which helped a little. I love it so. But otherwise, I’m an automaton. I’m basically dead inside.

By dead inside, I mean I have a list of about twenty-five points about special-needs parenting which I am ready to start shouting about. If I were Jack, I’d be looking for lamps to throw off the deck. I wouldn’t mind smashing something, but it sounds like a lot of work. And a big mess, and I don’t have me waiting in the wings to clean it up while I decompress elsewhere. I mean I do have me, but me doesn’t want to clean up any rage-messes that I make.

I’m not going to list the bullet points which are making me furious. It’s counter-productive. I will, however, close with a list of random observations.

  • Charlie is being so good. Since his last med bump, he seems to be less rigid, more flexible. He will pray at home and at Primary again. There were years where he refused to do it.
  • February is getting me down. It’s just blah, you know.
  • I am excessively worn out by the sensory demands and behavioral idiosyncrasies of three separate SN children. It’s like an insane joke—how can we make this woman’s life so bizarre and difficult that it’s laughable? Hahahahahahaha. Joke’s on me.
  • I have a stronger core and, because the exercises make me want to throw up, I’m eating less. It’s a good diet.
  • If anyone asks me to do anything at this point in time, anything besides stay alive and tend to my needy brood, I am going to close my eyes for a good ten seconds, exhale loudly, and try calling down lightning bolts and gale force winds.

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