Feels like forever since I've been to my own little blogosphere. I have missed getting my experiences and thoughts down on "paper". Life not only gained on me this summer, but somehow managed to trip me up. Each day in the last six weeks has felt like it was moving at glacial speed AND roaring by. No sooner up, then I was looking bleary eyed at the clock reading midnight-ish.
Insomnia, which is always with me, has been been wreaking havoc. It took a trip to my pdoc to figure out that, yes, I am losing part of my mind, and no, it's not permanent. My mix of drugs was upped by one, and I feel like I can breath again. My agitation and anxiety level was way above what I have ever felt before. The pdoc reminded me that lack of sleep will do odd things to, say, your brain, nervous system, body...all that good stuff.
I thought once my mother was able to drive and get around by herself, I could just go back to my life and carry on. Not so fast, and not so easy for me. Her detox was something that initially scared the shit out of me. Then, I realized I couldn't do jack about it, so I was able to let it go....a bit. Life started to smooth out a little, normal routine for Cam and I. Still had Murphy, the unrepentant house pisser, though. Stress..
Middle of summer, and all of our friends were on vacation, or heading there. So Rob and I began to think about doing a two day, cheap trip to the beach. Because I have zero tolerance for filth and ineptitude, finding a suitable place was a bit of a challenge. THEN, because I also have such a short memory, and a penchant for masochism, I thought about how nice it would be to ask my mom if she would like to join us. She complained of being lonely, and it's just killed me to see her like this since my dad died.
I should have had my fucking head examined when I asked her to go away for two days with us, so what happened next still blows my mind. What was a two day jaunt, is now a full week. And I agreed to it. With my sister and nephew coming down half way through that week. That week is now upon us, in just a few days.
The mother-sister dynamic actually makes my heart start skipping, in a purely awful way. But because I am really good at shoving awful, horrific thoughts from the front of my mind to the corners, all that stress has manifested itself as an irritable, anxious, bitch with very little insight into why I might be so fucking stressed out. My therapist is fantastic at her job. She lets me work at what is bothering me, without leading me. Which would be great, if I weren't so goddamned tired and could think beyond the next five minutes.
It FINALLY occurred to me that all the sleeplessness (well, more so than usual) and generally bitchy-ness and zero tolerance for whining (sorry, Cam) was because I am dreading going on..... vacation.
The family dynamic is crap to begin with (I am the favorite, sister is not....and it is palpable) and mom is back on the wine. She's already been bitching up a storm about not being able to relax and enjoy "a glass" of wine at the end of her presumably hard day of sitting on her ass.
I should also mention, I have been having pain in both shoulders. A few years ago my right shoulder was "fixed" with some acupuncture and PT. I dodged a surgery bullet for it then, but now I am sure I will end up under the blade. So I have to endure 3 more months of PT before we get to where both doc and I schedule the surgery. Due to funky bone structure and some impinged tendons, my damn shoulders have been killing me, which makes it so much more fun to try and sleep at night.
Cam is still not speaking, and the pediatrician who I know is an alarmist, had me get her hearing checked out. Perfect hearing. I knew it, but wanted to make sure I didn't let anything slip through the cracks...just in case. I could not get Cam's OT to call me back so I could set up a time to have a speech therapist check her out. Turns out the lady went on sabbatical. Ha! So now I am left in the hands of what appears to be a very young and inexperienced OT to figure out why my kid won't say "mama".
Did I mention Murphy? Karma is kicking me hard in the ass. Murph was our 20th foster Pug. Our last little foster Pug, because I went back to school full time and then we got placed with Cam. Hooking my mom up with Murphy? Another colossal fuck up on my part. We have determined that the dog's brain is severely damaged. No medical diagnosis, mind you. Determined by my complete inability to get that bastard dog to STOP PISSING IN MY HOUSE. He wears doggie diapers. Need I say more about that stress?
Earthquake. Hurricane. And now vacation with my family.
The one bright spot is that I have downloaded a ream of AA meetings to attend and got me a temporary sponsor. I got that sponsor by going to a meeting I normally never attend. I stood up to share and must have looked crazed or pitiful when I laughed and said how hard the last 8 months have been, caring for my baby and my crazy, wine soaked mother. Poor sponsor lady has no idea what she's in for with me. I hope her program is tight.
Insomnia, which is always with me, has been been wreaking havoc. It took a trip to my pdoc to figure out that, yes, I am losing part of my mind, and no, it's not permanent. My mix of drugs was upped by one, and I feel like I can breath again. My agitation and anxiety level was way above what I have ever felt before. The pdoc reminded me that lack of sleep will do odd things to, say, your brain, nervous system, body...all that good stuff.
I thought once my mother was able to drive and get around by herself, I could just go back to my life and carry on. Not so fast, and not so easy for me. Her detox was something that initially scared the shit out of me. Then, I realized I couldn't do jack about it, so I was able to let it go....a bit. Life started to smooth out a little, normal routine for Cam and I. Still had Murphy, the unrepentant house pisser, though. Stress..
Middle of summer, and all of our friends were on vacation, or heading there. So Rob and I began to think about doing a two day, cheap trip to the beach. Because I have zero tolerance for filth and ineptitude, finding a suitable place was a bit of a challenge. THEN, because I also have such a short memory, and a penchant for masochism, I thought about how nice it would be to ask my mom if she would like to join us. She complained of being lonely, and it's just killed me to see her like this since my dad died.
I should have had my fucking head examined when I asked her to go away for two days with us, so what happened next still blows my mind. What was a two day jaunt, is now a full week. And I agreed to it. With my sister and nephew coming down half way through that week. That week is now upon us, in just a few days.
The mother-sister dynamic actually makes my heart start skipping, in a purely awful way. But because I am really good at shoving awful, horrific thoughts from the front of my mind to the corners, all that stress has manifested itself as an irritable, anxious, bitch with very little insight into why I might be so fucking stressed out. My therapist is fantastic at her job. She lets me work at what is bothering me, without leading me. Which would be great, if I weren't so goddamned tired and could think beyond the next five minutes.
It FINALLY occurred to me that all the sleeplessness (well, more so than usual) and generally bitchy-ness and zero tolerance for whining (sorry, Cam) was because I am dreading going on..... vacation.
The family dynamic is crap to begin with (I am the favorite, sister is not....and it is palpable) and mom is back on the wine. She's already been bitching up a storm about not being able to relax and enjoy "a glass" of wine at the end of her presumably hard day of sitting on her ass.
I should also mention, I have been having pain in both shoulders. A few years ago my right shoulder was "fixed" with some acupuncture and PT. I dodged a surgery bullet for it then, but now I am sure I will end up under the blade. So I have to endure 3 more months of PT before we get to where both doc and I schedule the surgery. Due to funky bone structure and some impinged tendons, my damn shoulders have been killing me, which makes it so much more fun to try and sleep at night.
Cam is still not speaking, and the pediatrician who I know is an alarmist, had me get her hearing checked out. Perfect hearing. I knew it, but wanted to make sure I didn't let anything slip through the cracks...just in case. I could not get Cam's OT to call me back so I could set up a time to have a speech therapist check her out. Turns out the lady went on sabbatical. Ha! So now I am left in the hands of what appears to be a very young and inexperienced OT to figure out why my kid won't say "mama".
Did I mention Murphy? Karma is kicking me hard in the ass. Murph was our 20th foster Pug. Our last little foster Pug, because I went back to school full time and then we got placed with Cam. Hooking my mom up with Murphy? Another colossal fuck up on my part. We have determined that the dog's brain is severely damaged. No medical diagnosis, mind you. Determined by my complete inability to get that bastard dog to STOP PISSING IN MY HOUSE. He wears doggie diapers. Need I say more about that stress?
Earthquake. Hurricane. And now vacation with my family.
The one bright spot is that I have downloaded a ream of AA meetings to attend and got me a temporary sponsor. I got that sponsor by going to a meeting I normally never attend. I stood up to share and must have looked crazed or pitiful when I laughed and said how hard the last 8 months have been, caring for my baby and my crazy, wine soaked mother. Poor sponsor lady has no idea what she's in for with me. I hope her program is tight.
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