That's the story of my every day. I stand there, looking around, wondering what am I actually looking for? Why am I here? Where was I? ADHD rears its head. I love it. I hate it. I am exhausted.
When I am not standing around wondering what I'm doing, I am like a tornado, zipping through the house, room after room, picking up, cleaning, organizing, spackling, laundry, dishes, watering plants, hanging shelves, yada yada. Most days, I am in a lot of pain, but the world won't stop for my chronic pain. <-- said in the voice of a pain medication commercial. []The older woman has one hand on her back before reaching to lift her granddaughter.] I still have to maintain the household and family.
I can't even describe to you the pain I feel throughout my body. Unless you experience it too. Every bone, muscle, tendon, joint. They burn.
I need a spa day. A real one. Not just a 60 minute massage. I mean, that would be great too, but I am talking about a full day of no responsibilities and endless toe rubs. When I am the center of attention and all of the focus is on bringing me peace, happiness, and food.
Conversion Disorder avec Fibromyalgia
with a side of Degenerative Disc Disease
and telescoping intestines? Yea, that's the new one.
It's been such a long time since I've written. My only excuses are lack of time and maybe motivation. Also, I forget that I have this outlet.
It's really important that we write our feelings down! That way, we can get them out and process them. It's a therapy that everyone should try. Which reminds me . .
I have a wonderful and beautiful friend that is having a really tough time in life right now. She is going through so much on top of being newly diagnosed with Autism. It makes sense to me, of course; she fills every part of the triangle.
I am able to give her therapeutic counseling to calm her down when she is spiraling. Somehow, I give her the peace she needs when she needs it most. The words I say, and the advice I give is simple. Just breathe. Just pause for a second. Take a breath. It will be okay.
It will. Right?
Like, how am I able to give that advise to someone else so effortlessly, but yet I am in such turmoil in my own head?
Alright. let me rewind my brain to the beginning of the year. Or after my last post. I can't even remember what I've written in other posts, so if you are binge reading these, I apologize if I am repeating myself. If not, you learn something new, and I get a refresher!
Goodness, there's so much . .
Adrian is being released from the hospital tomorrow. I guess we'll start there.
January was a really tough month. As time has gone on, and as he's gotten bigger, Adrian's aggression became next level. The destruction of property was worse; from kicking a hole in a wall to taking damn near half of it out. His behavior at school worsened. He kicked a teacher in the shin one day, and broke his para's new iPhone another. And, he hit me for the first time.
Most days were the same. It's cold and snowy out. Going out of the house was dependent on the level of cold and snowy. But none of that mattered if Adrian wanted to go to the store.
I might have told you that his love language is receiving gifts. Every single day Adrian will beg me to spend money in some way. Whether it's Robux, V-Bucks, or real bucks, not a day goes by that he doesn't beg. It's so fucked up too because it's the one thing that I really don't have. Sometimes I can swing it and get him Robux, or bring him to the grocery store with me and allow him to get something small. But he is certain that he is entitled to something new every day. There could be a fire in the kitchen and this boy will beg to go to the store. Of course I'd have to say something like, "not now buddy. how about we talk about this later?" "BUT PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" Then I can expect the other half of the house is going to be trashed before the fire can even get there.
Oh come on. Of course if there was a REAL fire, it wouldn't go down like that. (Some people take things literally, and what not.)
So, this one day . . much like every other day in New England, was wicked cold and Mother Nature had just gifted us 8" of snow. Adrian wanted to go to the store. Immediately, I get that feeling of defeat. I sigh within myself and know the inevitable is approaching. How tired I am, exhausted really, due to how much cleaning and adulting I've already done that day, will dictate that inner sigh. It typically feels like this . . I am going to try to describe it. A flood of emotions that can't be pinpointed in real time, my heart skips a beat and then comes pounding back, bringing a whopping headache with it. And this is within seconds of "I want to go to the store".
It's so rare that my response is, "Yea, I have to go anyway", knowing that if he comes, I have to purchase something for him. I feel badass in that moment. Happy kid, house still stands. However, most times I can't go to the store for whatever reason. Usually because I am broke af. But let's not forget I am also in a crap ton of pain and I'm quite freaked out about people in general. I don't want to walk around a store for any reason unless it is to pick up $100 bills.
Anyway, it was Saturday February 1st that things escalated too far. Adrian was about to throw something at me. I went to take it away and he checked the top of my hands. Not too hard, but in that instant, he looked at me and I looked at him. He was wondering what I would do. I was wondering what I should do. He let go of whatever he was holding and I said, "don't ever hit me". He responded with his typical "Fuck you, Bitch!" I walked out of the room. We both had a cool-down period and were good. Until later in the day when a similar sitch happened. Instead, he sucker punched me in the stomach. Again .. not hard. But enough for me to immediately see the escalation in physical abuse . . and enough to see that he didn't pause on that one.
I quickly took a few steps out of the room to the hallway, but he was hot on my tail. I pulled a uey and slipped into my bedroom, locking the door. He started banging and kicking the door. HARD.
I called the police from my bedroom as I was barricading myself from my own 11 year old child. What kind of world am I living in right now? I'm just wtf over here.
After 5 hours in the ER waiting room, we were called back to the same pod he was in last time. I was like, "Heyyyyy Charlotte!!! How was your Christmas?!" Happy to see familiar faces, but also not. Ya know?
After the security check. we got settled into the room. I sat with him for a bit, but was falling asleep. At some point I asked the nurse if they needed anything more from me. I was beat, and fell asleep before she returned to tell me I'm free to go. Just as I pull the covers over my head and wiggle into my comfy position, my phone rang. It's the hospital. I can't remember her name but she works with the mental health facility that contracts with the hospital . . she berated me for abandoning my child.
"We haven't even admitted him yet!" 🤯 She told me to return right away or she's going to have me arrested. Can you believe it?
Honestly. This is how stuff goes for me. It's the "go big or go home" syndrome. Apparently, it applies to literally everything.
To make a long story a whole lot shorter, Adrian was at that hospital for 11 days while waiting for a bed at the adolescent inpatient facility an hour away. He was transported on March 12th. Oh yea, the day of my surgery!
And here I thought I was going to make the story shorter ..
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