I haven't written in a bit. As usual, it's not that I'm not composing posts in my head during the day it's just that life with five kids, my job and overall fatigue seem to keep me from writing. The funny thing is that I'm doing okay keeping up with the blogs I follow and comment here and there, but for some reason it's easier to read other's words and get a peek into their lives than try to process mine into a sensible post.
Life continues to bumble along. We went to the beach. All-star baseball came and went. L learned to swim. Work has ratcheted up big time. K and I waiver between best friends and hurting each other because we can't control things that continue affect our kids and our family.
My stress levels have been off the charts the past 3 weeks. It's not been a pretty sight. I'm prickly, short tempered and dismissive. My worst moments tend to be at bedtime when I simply need them to get to bed, K wants to get romantic and I start mentally running down in my head all the things I didn't get done that day and all the things I need to get done. At one point a few days ago I literally growled at D to just get out of my room and go to bed. I am unbelievable ashamed about it.
The girls, particularly M, have been extremely challenging. I think it might be because they are home all day for the summer. I'm used to a break from their neediness while they're at school. I love them very much, but I often feel way out of my league in trying to parent them. E seems to be doing well on the medication, but we've had some moments where I just don't know how we're ever going to get to a more natural relationship.
It dawned on me today that there might be another reason for my increase in stress and anxiety. My therapist is on vacation. It's been almost three weeks since we've last met. Talking things through with her and just knowing she's there if I need her seems to keep me anchored and a little more capable of handling my life.
I know I say it all the time, but I am just really tired. The fatigue has seeped itself into my bones and makes me feel like a shell of the person I am and want to be.
I need to be better. I've tried to emotionally rid myself of feelings that makes things worse. I've lowered my standards in my homemaking and parenting. Nothing has really helped. I'm once again toying with the idea of medication.
I realized the other day in the shower that I'm actually trying to control an unmanageable situation. The girls' needs are absolutely mind boggling. My grief at times is overwhelming. I'm trying to live my life (work, kids, family) like I did before the accident and it's impossible. While that realization takes the pressure off in a strange way, it also makes me feel hopeless and alone.
I need a break. A vacation from my life. That's not going to happen. We go to Hilton Head, SC in a few weeks, but as many of you know vacation with 5 kids isn't very relaxing. This will also be the first time E comes with us and I'm worried about her not allowing herself to have a good time and criticizing and ruining the trip for the boys who love the island so much.
I'm becoming a bit desperate for things to get better. I seriously cannot imagine feeling any worse physically and emotionally.