I wish Christmas were not next week. I have no plans. They got cancelled. Now I suppose I have to figure out what to cook. I don't want to cook. I think I'm going to buy a frozen lasagna and some pies and be done with it.
I'm feeling very low today. Last night, I was already tired and my husband was working late. At 8:30 he called me to tell me his car wouldn't start and that he'd called a tow truck. So I loaded the kids in the van, got gas, and some caffeine, and drove the hour and fifteen minutes to Louisville to pick him up. And then we waited for the tow truck together, got some snacks, and headed home. It was midnight when we got here.
My eyes have been bothering me. Seems like I need new glasses about once a year. I'm so sick of that. Even my reading glasses are less than perfect for reading. And my regular glasses just make me tired. But I am tired. To the core, and perhaps that is the only trouble. I'm going to wait a while before running out to get my eyes checked.
I get the feeling that everyone wants everything to be OK. "Oh, you are back in Church...that's so wonderful!" And it is...BUT... Like the immediate crisis is over, but there is a long term reality to deal with here, and things are definitely not back to "normal" yet, if there ever was such a thing. There's still daily confusion over many things, daily tears, being scared. Not being quite right. Waiting and hoping and praying that the psych meds will continue to wax effective. Hoping she'll be able to resume school work in January and wondering if the second semester of Biology lab will happen.
And these meds have such grave side effects. But those side effects are less bad than the reality without them.
Little things are getting to me today: I need a hair cut. My skin is awful, probably from all those brownies I was pigging out on in the hospital. And it's December and the rest of my skin is dry and scaly no matter how much lotion a slather on. I'm achy and feeling the fibro today. I doubt I'll do my exercise video. I'm struggling hard to keep my eating where it should be, and that depresses me. I was doing so well in that department without a struggle before all this happened. But I carry on because it is the ONE thing I can do to take care of myself in all of this (Ok, that, and getting the sleep I need). Perhaps it is iconic. And it's not about looks. It's about not wanting to be lugging around an extra forty-five pounds of unnecessary fat that I don't really have the energy to be shlepping.
Last night I had to drive over to Louisville because Wes' car broke down. Did I say this already? It's in the shop today, awaiting a diagnosis. Our van also needs some major work done on it. How pathetic is that? We are so totally that thrift-store and walmart shopping uncool family with the schizo kid, the fat mom, and the broken down vehicles....
I wish it weren't Christmas.