I have zero get-up-and-go today, or as I like to say, I’ve misplaced my give-a-damn. It’s worse than being tired, but not quite as bad as being depressed. I just want to sit on the couch and stare at the wall all day long, but of course that’s not an option. They boy needs lunch, there are errands to run, laundry to do, dinner to make. Sometimes this happens to me; I want nothing but to shut it all down. I’ve always been like that, but now, what with Carter’s relentless needs (it’s akin, energy-wise, to parenting a toddler year after year), it doesn’t work anymore. There are no mental health days in this life, no vacations, no peaceful evenings out. We’re a fall-through-the-cracks family: Carter is too unstable to be left with a babysitter, but not disabled enough to qualify for specialized respite care. Until we manage to meet some other families who know how to manage a kid like Carter and who are willing to trade some babysitting, we’re on our own.
I know what’s happening right now. Carter is coming out of a period of acute instability, and whenever that happens (as he begins to sleep more and require a little less of my energy during the day), I crash. I’m grateful that at least there is an ebb-and-flow to Carter’s illness, that we don’t have to live in that terrible, chaotic place 100% of the time. However, the problem is, I’m rarely fully functional. I’m almost always either giving Carter huge amounts of energy, of taking up all my time with recouping my energy. And then where are the good, happy days?
Hopefully I’ll have more energy tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m grateful that Carter is happy today.