Wednesday, July 27, 2011
I Feel the Weight of The World
I am missing my hubby this week. He is at Boy Scout camp with his troop and I am left to hold down the fort. The fort that is crashing around the rocks. I am also missing my house as it nears the end of it's foreclosure nightmare, I am missing my old job, and all the aspects of my old life. And I am dealing with D's new diagnosis and the dawn of his journey through bipolar disorder. And this week has not been easy.
His behavior has been erratic, abusive, and down right combative. He can go from the sweetest eight year old one second, to a raging boy on a mission the next. He is impulsive and tearful. My reactions have often not been helpful this week. I have been flying off a little more than i should. I should know that when I am calm, he can be calmer. I just am fighting my own sadness. He is now on three meds. The Concerta is the newest, and he has had a bad time with it. He has had an increase in sadness, and to hear an eight year old say he wants to die, well, after emergency Doctor calls and visits today, he is off the concerta. The sad part is he knows that something is wrong and he can't help himself, can't stop himself. And he wants everyone to like him so bad. All I could do the other night is hold him and kiss him to settle him down. He is eight, functioning as a six year old, with all these issues. My heart breaks for him!!! Everyday. I want to help him so bad. And yet, I mess up at every turn. I let my emotions run unchecked. I am so mad at myself for that.
I have been through the tunnels of clinical depression before. And I feel it coming again. I have so much "on my plate" as my friend says, and no support from the husband. I am overwhelmed. I also am putting unrealistic expectations on myself, to be perfect as a mother, wife and friend, and I am giving more than I am getting. It scares me when I cry for hours at a time in small bursts, trying to hide it from C. He is eleven now. He worries about me, his brother, and the drama. In fact, he is the anchor that keeps me going. If it wasn't for him, I would have given up and hidden in my bed. Or worse. I can't hurt him, that's what I keep telling myself. Hurt him by giving up.
I have another added mess about the guy who shares our new house. We rent from his mom. We had gotten close as friends, than he freaks out and pulls away. He is moody and grumpy too. Sometimes I think he is bipolar also. I don't need another one. But, I am always afraid of getting him upset and doing the wrong thing by him. The dynamics of that relationship is hard to explain. Mistakes most certainly have been made. But I was getting attached to his friendship. And now, when he pulls away, I feel alone again. Just another relationship I have messed up.
If you have never felt the crushing weight of clinical depression and the feeling that you can't dig out, it's hard to convey the pain. I know I am doing all I can, trying my hardest. I know I am not alone, well, I don't know about that, but it just seems like the world is closing in. Right now, tonight, I am sick of being alone. I need a hand to hold. A hug.
But I will get through it. I keep repeating this too shall pass. The last year has been one of change and trial. Of clawing uphill to fix things. It's no wonder I am tired of it all.