When I got the approval for short term disability from work I was at the lowest place in my life—barely able to function enough to care for myself. I was given eight weeks to pull myself out of the black pit of despair and get myself ready to begin anew. Eight blessed weeks of low to no stress. However, my family didn’t see it that way.
In a sense—looking back—I was like a child, unable to even voice my opinions or stand up for myself. I was weary and exhausted. Before I knew it, I had been assigned making daily lunches for two of my children everyday and the job of taking my daughter to school (the bus had been fine before) and my son to half-day preschool and picking him up four hours later everyday…not to mention watching him the rest of the afternoons and overseeing any projects he had and weekly homework assignments. These were things we had been paying a family member to do. Making dinner every night was another job, and I found myself at the local supermarket nearly every single day of the week! Yes, I have learned how to make several new dishes—some of which have even become favorites at my house and may need to become posts on “Things I Love” as soon as I have the energy to write them. And my children have been sicker than I ever remember during these few weeks, so I spent many hours in the car on the way to and from (and at) doctors’ appointments. Then there were orthodontist visits, a special laser treatment to expose and pull down two of my older daughter’s teeth, and visits to the psychiatrist for my younger daughter for her anxiety.
This week I am in charge of calling the insurance company to find out why none of my therapy was covered (therapist is not in network), and picking my 9th grader up from school three days this week so she can stay late to work on an art project she’s behind on and go to math tutoring for her algebra class she’s failing. And that’s not all she’s failing! What could have happened? I’m wondering if my leave and the distress of thinking her parents might be getting a divorce has affected her grades this semester. Last semester her lowest grade was a C. Now she’s carrying F’s in four of her five courses! And she hasn’t a care in the world. We’ve taken her phone, ipod, computer access, free time, and set up a rigid study schedule for her. I’m setting up conferences with her five teachers to discuss the issues she’s having and find out how we can get information on when tests are coming up so she doesn’t “forget” to study and fail them all. I’ve been looking online—because one of her teachers sent an email back stating that she has trouble concentrating in class—and I’m wondering if she may have ADHD. She certainly seems to have all the symptoms. She has a follow up with the pediatrician she’s been seeing for years next week, so I’m going to bring it up and see what the doctor thinks.
I want to thank my sister who has stepped in to help me twice a week by picking up my son and watching him those afternoons. Those two days are ones I know I’ll be able to breathe.
I am now in the eighth week of my disability and finally finding some relief from the drug Cymbalta, which helps both my Fibromyalgia and my depression. I’m still on Abilify and Prozac, but taping off of those until eventually I will only be on Cymbalta. Well, that’s the plan for now. Now that I’m feeling more like my old self, I’m thinking that it wasn’t fair to be given all the duties either our children did just fine for themselves or that we had paid help to do. I was on a paid leave, although the plan at first was that I might never return to the job that has caused such stress in my life. Why was it like someone flipped a switch, and now that mom’s home, she can do…everything!
It sounds like I’m complaining, but I have a point to make here. And it’s not that I don’t love my children and enjoy caring for them. I actually do, especially this week now that I’m feeling better. But my advice to anyone who needs time to turn their lives around and who needs to start with themselves, is to keep everything else constant. Don’t start making drastic changes to make the lives of everyone else in the family easier until you start feeling better. Take the time you need to sleep, if that’s what you feel you need. To meditate, sew, shop, drive, walk—whatever makes you feel better about who you are. Then, when you can see the light at the end of the tunnel and you are pulling your feet from the black pit you’ve been sitting in, slowly implement changes that will be beneficial to everyone else. You are worth it, and they can’t be happy if you aren’t.
