Saturday, February 18, 2017

It's amazing how much better I feel from just two weeks ago. The depression has seriously lifted. I can get things done again. Once again, though, my laundry has piled up, except this time it's the clean stuff that's piled up. I have baskets of clean laundry that needs to be folded and put away. It seems I can't keep up with laundry no matter what type of mood I'm in.

I've finished a couple of books this past week. I'm going to start a new step four inventory for OA tonight. There are some more items that I forgot about when I did my first inventory, and I found questions in one of the books that I read that I really like for the inventory.

Matthew's been having a hard time this past week. He's had more meltdowns at school, and he's been refusing to do things and use words for me. There's been a bit of pointing going on, which he hasn't done in awhile. I'm trying to encourage him to use his words along with pointing.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

I keep wondering if there was something that I did to cause Matthew's autism. When I was pregnant with him, they measured a lump on his neck/head. Was that a beginning sign? Should I have known that something was going to be wrong? We were so worried at the time. There was all this talk of genetic testing and what we were going to do with the pregnancy. I had even considered terminating the pregnancy. But then when we had the follow-up ultrasound a month later (a long, excruciating month), the lump was gone. The doctors said it could have dissolved itself. Still, should I have known from that lump that something in the future was going to be wrong? I just feel like I should have known. I kept denying when his doctor told me that he should be tested for autism. I waited for over a year before I made the first appointment. Did I hinder his process by waiting?

I don't know why I'm feeling so guilty about all of this right now. I guess I feel like I screwed Bryan up with my bipolar disorder, and I see him fighting (or not fighting, as it may be) his bipolar disorder. I just don't want that for Matthew. I don't want him to have to fight anymore diagnoses, although I know there are probably more coming. We're just at the beginning of his life, and he's in a family of many mental illnesses. I can only pray that he doesn't get hit the way my other kids did.

So that's my mommy guilt that I've been feeling for the past few days. Matthew had speech and OT yesterday, and his OT therapist got to see some of his sensory issues. She said she was glad to see them, because now she can work on them and see about diagnosing him with SPD. The school has also seen issues with him this past week with sensory stuff. Full moon bringing it out?

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

I have a very small hope right now that the Prozac is starting to kick in. The anxiety attacks are few and far between, and they're not as strong as they were. The depression is not as severe as it was. The suicidal thoughts come and go, but they're more brief when they do come, and they're easier to get out of. I keep looking at the semi-colon tattoo on my wrist, trying to remember exactly why I got it. I was celebrating the suicide attempts that I had survived. I was vowing to myself that there would be no more attempts. When I need a little push up out of my deep hurts, I look at my wrist, at the scar with the tattoo right next to it, and I try to let it pick me up out of the suicidal thoughts. I want to get another tattoo soon. I want the green mental health ribbon with the phrase, "I've still got a lot of fight left in me."

I told Tea today how proud I am of her for how she is starting to act grown up and maturing when it comes to situations that she's put into, such as cleaning up after herself when she's sick.

Matthew's been hard to handle these past few days. He doesn't want clothes on, which has been hard when I've needed to take him out places. He's been throwing tantrums, which was extra fun in WalMart yesterday. I tried just talking to him to get him distracted, but it wasn't working. I just kept on trying, thinking how exhausted I was and I didn't want to deal with it at the moment. So I got what I needed and got the heck out of there.

My sister and I are headed to Hinkley this weekend for our projects weekend. I really need this time away. I'll be working on my scrapbooks on Shutterfly; I have six of them to work on. I'm almost done with one of them. Then I have to wait for sales before I can purchase them. But I feel like the only time I can work on them is when we go away for these weekends. We'll also be doing some gambling. I'll give myself a certain amount to spend. I'm not sure how much yet. I have to sit down and figure out some stuff with my checkbook. Ideally, I'd win some outstanding amount and be able to pay this month's mortgage and the taxes we owe. Ah, one can dream...

Sunday, February 5, 2017

When I made plans to go away this coming weekend to work on my scrapbooks (and gamble) with my sister, I didn't realize that Tea had her mock trial competition. I feel as if I cancel my plans, I'm going to be admitted to the hospital because I'm going to lose my freaking mind. I am so close to a breakdown that it's not even funny. The only way I get through each day is knowing that it's one day closer to getting away with my sister, having only adult time.

I'm trying to take an interest in reading, but the books that I got from the library aren't keeping my interest. So I'll keep to the books that I ordered from Hazelden. I'm still trying to keep going with my  OA writing in my Region 4 notebook as well, but it's hard to keep up when you don't even feel like lifting your arms.

Friday, February 3, 2017

We went in yesterday for what is officially the last of the evaluations for Matthew. He is on the spectrum, but he is mild. The doctor said to continue on with what we're doing for him, and now maybe with the diagnosis, we can also get some additional help through the schools.

My life has been going down a spiraling hole. I think I need to see a therapist. Last night I slept about 15 hours, and when I woke up and showered today, I could barely lift my arms to comb through my hair. I have absolutely no ambition to do anything. I'm thinking more and more about going into the hospital to get a whole drug-makeover, which just sounds more appealing. Maybe I'll ask my psychiatric nurse when she gets back if it's a possibility. For now, though, I'm just going to keep on going, day-to-day struggle as it may be.