I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break.
I just don't think I can do this anymore. I'm responsible for our family's financial well-being, making sure the meds, doc appts are in order, bills are paid, the house is clean, groceries stocked, cooking done, fundraising, our taxes, every detail of our lives, the things that keep us afloat are handled. And I'm just exhausted. I am so exhausted. I haven't had a real break in two years. I just want a couple hours where there isn't major stress, where no one is sick, or having seizures or freaking out, where there is just peace. I just need a moment of peace. And even when FD and I get out to a movie or dinner, my mind is still on Froggy. The worry never leaves me. It's like I'm constantly preparing for disaster, imagining in my mind how to escape the earthquake, the fire, the nuclear fallout.
The last couple weeks have been more than I can bear. On top of all the stress, Froggy isn't going to bed til 10 or 10:30, so I have no time to myself, not a moment to recuperate, to remind myself that it's worth it, that someday life will get easier. Honestly it feels like there is no end in sight. I'm starting to have panic attacks, and night terrors, and it's my body telling me I need to slow down. But what do I give up? Sleep? Cleaning? Cooking? Working? Taking care of a toddler with CF? Do I let the meds slip, the doc appts? There is so much responsibility, I feel like I can't breathe. And there's nothing I can do about it. This is my life right now, and I need to accept it.
Tonight, I tried for 2.5 hours to get Froggy to go to sleep but she is wired. No amount of rocking, holding, begging, pleading could get those little eyes to shut. We had a bath, a wind down, we read stories and I rocked her. I sang, I hummed, I shushed. And it's like she wolfed down a pound of chocolate covered espresso beans before bed. Instead of sleeping, while mommy had her emotional break down, she watched me sob and said, "don't worry mommy." So on top of everything, I have the guilt of knowing that Froggy is 'sharing' in the responsibility of my parental stress. Great, I just bought her a few hundred hours of therapy.
I'm sure tomorrow will be better. But tonight, life sucks. It just sucks. And Froggy is now jumping on the chair while eating cat food. I think this qualifies me for the worst parent of the year award. Oh well...