This morning I cried. This morning I put my head in my hand, and let the tears fall.
I’m not grieving.
I haven’t been seriously hurt.
I don’t feel unloved.
Or any other obvious reasons to weap.
I cried because I’m tired.
No not just tired, it’s way beyond that.
My body is screaming at me.
I feel like my body is shutting down bit by bit.
Tiredness so severe it hurts.
I’m 10 years into this life, as a parent to a disabled child.
I’m 2 weeks into the summer holidays. And my body is failing me.
Imagine running for hours and hours every day of your life, even when you need to stop because your legs are weak, but you can’t.
You do it day after day, year after year.
Then a period of time comes (7 weeks long ) when you have to run 20 hours a day on your already weak leg’s , you push and push because you can’t afford to stop.
Being a parent to a disabled child is running from eyes open to eyes closed, and some in between.
We can’t just ” get a good night sleep and feel better in the morning ”
We can’t have a pj and movie day to rest.We can only push and push. ‘ come on body, we can do this ‘ I cry.
I saw this on Facebook just an insight to special needs mums lives.
I woke up stupidly early this morning feeling extremely anxious. I didn’t have a great nights sleep too much flying around in my mind. Tomorrow we have a trip out with home start, I’m half looking forward to it and half dreading it. I have the worst feeling that my eldest is going to hate it and it will just ruin the day. I want him to have fun and I want to enjoy it myself too without over thinking every move and what we can do that won’t “scare” him. I know tomorrow will be a disaster and that everyone will see his meltdowns and be watching me to see what I do.
These holidays ate hard it’s tiring it’s frustrating and it’s exhausting. I’m mentally exhausted and it’s taking its toll. Today I’ve felt so down since I got home this afternoon, so alone, fed and down. I feel guilty that I’ve told my husband to take the kids upstairs so I can be on my own. I’m sat in tears. 9 and a half hours on my own with the kids 5 days a week. Last week was hard work my husband goes on about how much he’s missed the kids but would rather wash up the pots then spend an extra half an hour with them.
My husband says he gets that I have depression he reckons he has depression himself I dont believe he does it’s an excuse for whatever he can use it for. He says he understands that I sometimes don’t feel great but he doesn’t. If he did he wouldn’t ask what the matter is he would just get it and help out. Asking why I want time to myself well he would know if he spent more then 2 hours alone with them. It’s a week away but counselling is playing on my mind. There’s no point telling him he just wouldn’t get it it would just be shrugged off. I’ve got 4 more weeks of holidays then settling the eldest back into school. It’s gonna be so hard and I can’t do it alone but I’m going to have to.