Life is Pain

Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something. –The Princess Bride

Days like today, I want to crawl back in my bed and hide until it’s all over.

Nothing particularly “bad” has happened. No real major meltdowns, or fantastic tantrums; only a few more appointments than usual scheduled over the next few weeks. But still, I’m feeling completely overwhelmed and exhausted. And today it’s hitting me hard.

The insurance is an issue again. We got the test results back for Erica’s neuro-psych testing, and they recommended a therapist to help her. We got signed up and scheduled with the therapist for the end of the month. But this morning, after her physical therapy appointment (which is in the deep recesses of the hospital so I have no cell service for that hour), I checked my voice mail to find that the new therapist doesn’t accept our insurance. They took us off the schedule and recommended a different therapist who does take our insurance, but who also has a waiting list. So we are waiting. And in the meantime, Erica’s teacher tells me she has been acting increasingly frustrated at school and, when asked, says she “can’t talk about it” and shuts down.

Breakfast this morning was punctuated with Isaac’s “well, like usual, the bottom of this egg is black and burned.” Makes me so thrilled that I cooked for him. (This also explains why my family has been living on leftovers for the last several days (could it actually have been weeks?): Dad has been super busy lately so we eat without him a lot, and why cook for people who will only complain? There’s just no point in wasting my energy only to have the life sucked out of me for my effort.) And we seem to be back to dealing with poop in his pants a few times a week, which I thought we had dealt with. That means it’s time to call the GI again and get back in, probably sooner than the appointment we have scheduled for June.

Cambria gave herself a black eye (well, according to her it was the baby cradle that gave her the black eye, but that’s really just a technicality) and had to have a tooth extracted last week because of a cracked filling and deep infection. She has generally been more and more unpleasant as the days go on. I don’t know if this is related to the physical discomforts or if we’re dealing with “growing into” the same sorts of issues we dealt with before with Erica, but so much is similar that my heart sinks at the thought of where this is all pointing.

And school ends in a month. Which means full days of sending all three to their rooms because they can’t seem to get along. Full days of listening to complaining about my less-than-stellar cooking. Full days of tearing out my hair begging for a sliver of emotional sunshine.

So back to therapy I shall go. And in to the doctor again to evaluate the meds. Because again, it’s just not cutting it. And there are too many days like today, where all I want is to get under the covers and close my eyes; to stay that way forever.

I probably would feel better if I cried. But there isn’t the time. And I don’t have the energy.

My heart hurts. My body aches. Deep in my soul there is a pain I can’t describe. A feeling that this may never, ever end. A dark, abiding fear that pain, sorrow, and isolation are my future.

I need something. Therapy, medicine, sleep, chocolate, sun, exercise… something.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.