I keep thinking things should be smooth sailing from here on out. I waited for this time to come for almost three years and I should be excited about moving forward. Finally our lives aren't so much in limbo anymore waiting on the military and the VA. Finally I can pack up and move on to the next chapter in our lives and start getting settled. Life should be good, right?
Instead I find myself spending most days hiding away from the world, barely able to get myself out of bed. I feel completely buried under this huge cloud of darkness leaving me with little to no energy. Having to schedule appointments and make commitments suddenly makes me feel anxious and I never want to leave the house. I drag myself to the store as little as possible and only during times when I know there won't be as many people out. I know what I need to do, what needs to get done before I leave and yet I waste each day that comes along and hide under my blankets afraid to go out and face the world.
By all accounts this could very well be due to my hypothyroidism, an automatic gift courtesy of my thyroidectomy 10 months ago. It could also be causing my daily headaches and constant digestive problems. Whatever it is, it's taking away my quality of life in a big hurry and I'm not liking it. I push myself to try to get stuff done but I seem to have this short supply of energy that never goes away. There's so much I want to do and it all just feels like it's out of reach. I struggle to make goals and plans and consistently fall short. It's like I'm trying to keep my head above water and someone or something just pushes me back down.
I keep trying to understand why my plate just feels so full and why life just feels so overwhelming to me when there's plenty of people I know with 10 times as much going on who seem to manage to get stuff done and don't get so burned out. This should be the home stretch of our journey and I should be excited and looking forward to what's ahead, not panicky and feeling sorry for myself. We've been talking about this the entire time he's been here recovering so it's not like it's anything new to me, but I can't seem to get myself out from under this depression. I worry about money and the transition and second guess everything I do. I told someone earlier that I'm not as strong as I seem, I'm just pretty good at hiding things and wearing that fake smile.
I hate that this is happening now, right when I need to be literally moving forward. Although honestly, it's been like this for the past few months. My husband has taken to telling me that I'm lazy and I'll say that I'm going to leave but I never will. Part of me feels guilty for having to leave one of my kids behind with him but I need her to be able to stay in school until we know for sure where we're going to live. I know a big move like this is extremely disruptive to a child on the autism spectrum and she's already starting to have behavior problems at school and at home. By the same token, I desperately need to get my son out of this house and into a new routine. His pediatrician said that we need a referral for a child psychologist where we move because he's feeling some stress because of the chaotic situation we're in. As a parent, I think I'll feel guilty no matter what but if this were just a regular military move, I might feel less pressure and maybe less guilt because it was out of my control.
I think the most frustrating part of this whole mess is that I recognized that there's a problem that needs to be taken care of yet I've gotten no where. I don't understand how anyone else can walk into their doctor's office and ask for some kind of antidepressant and get a prescription, yet I've asked my counselor for a referral and practically begged my doctor (at separate visits) for something to help me and I can't get it. Somehow I fall into the mild to moderate category because I guess I seem pretty sane and don't fall apart. They'd rather just check my thyroid and then simply tell me that it's a side effect and we'll just watch and wait to see how things go. Although if I ever felt the need to harm myself or others they'd gladly lock me up in the psych ward. So does it matter that I'd like to hurt them for not listening to me when I say over and over that I need a little help to balance out my life? Where's the fine line where I can get something so I can at least function a little better? Do they need an itemized crap list of things that come through here and add to the stress?
All I'm asking for is just a little help trying to put our lives back together piece by piece. And just because my husband has come to the end of his military career, does not mean that his recovery is over by any means. Our lives will never be normal again. Most days I can accept that but sometimes I need a little help keeping my sanity. I don't think that's asking too much.