Depleted. Weary. Consumed. Worn out. Strained.
Yeah. I went to the thesaurus for this one. Saying I am tired just seemed like a joke. The Boy has been going through another incredibly rough patch. Neither of us have slept much in the last few weeks. It is not surprising to me at all, that sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture. The Boy’s nights are filled with anxiety and fear. We are awake until nearly dawn. And durig the days? As far as Asperger’s is considered, both for me, and for The Boy, no sleep = no coping skills. All that we have worked to teach ourselves to get us through a day move farther and farther out of our reach with each sleepless night.
I am awake all night, and want nothing more than to sleep all day, but there is The Girl to consider. I was setting my alarm to make sure I was awake for her, but as the sleepless nights dragged on, I began sleeping through my alarm. How many hours can she sit alone? How do I balance her needs? My son’s needs? My own? At this point, we are just in survival mode, with the attention going to the proverbial squeakiest wheel.
I have gotten to the point where I am barely functional….well, at least nowhere near as functional as I once was. My entire store of energy is spent just on the basics…. grooming, kid maintenance, their school, and trying to keep my head above water with my business. And most definitely not all of them on the same day. I thought that it was depression. But, in all of my experience with depression before, I never remembered it being quite this way. I decided it must just be a really rough patch of depression. But that didn’t feel right either. Then it hit me….exhaustion. I am just plain, freaking tired. And not even in the glamorous, celebrity-working-too-hard-on-shooting-a-feature-film-on-location sort or way. Just in a life is currently kicking my ass sort of way. And I realized that something had to give. After months of researching and considering and stressing and praying and crying and cursing…I have made an appointment to see about getting some medication for my son.
I feel both relief and apprehension at the thought of this. But the one thing I also feel, which is the thing that really matters, is peace. I don’t know whether choosing to seek out medication will be a light at the end of a tunnel for us, or the entrance to a brand new one, but I know that it is the right time for us to find out. From my own experience, I know that The Boy’s life very well may be a series of tunnels, but it is my hope that medication will turn out to be another tool that he may use to help light his way.