Damn, I’m tired. Tired of being tired. Tired of complaining about being tired of being tired. There’s a lot of tired here, is what I’m saying. Can’t even yawn properly, to maybe fend off some of the tired, because a big, satisfying yawn extends my jaw too far and after last week’s root canal (following my flute solo with all that practicing) my TMJ-riddled jaw is just not up for much. Kinda like me. Because tired.
Tonight I have a sleep study to see if the tired has an actual cause, or if I’m just generally screwed. Frankly I think it could go either way. It’s either some sort of restless limb thing going on, twitching my brain enough that it doesn’t properly rest while I’m sleeping, or I have chronic fatigue syndrome and there gotta be hella lot of changes here for me to function. All I know is that more days than not I’m alternating activity with thoughts along the lines of “holy hell I’m so tired I can barely stand it,” and that completing thoughts (or blog posts or book chapters or homeschool planning or flute studio planning or anything requiring me to think through more than two steps) is increasingly difficult. It’s depressing as hell, and for someone trying to pull out of the depression/anxiety vortex, tired is not helping a whole lot. My executive function tank is almost depleted, and as I have two twice-exceptional sons with marginal EF skills to scaffold, it ain’t pretty. Please see also: end of the school year please make the thinking stop.
When I met with the neurologist a few weeks ago, he asked how long I’d been exhausted. Without a trace of humor, my answer was “14 years.” I’ve been some form of tired since Andy was born, but it has gotten worse over the years. I’ve been so focused on meeting my sons’ needs (because their wiring required extra and unusual help) that I’ve neglected mine. And if the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and we can only conclude that my wiring is very much the same as theirs, then I also have extra and unusual needs, and should probably implement some of their accommodations into my own life. I just…don’t want to. Don’t want to be the kind of fragile that requires such changes. You know…human.
Just as I know I’m not alone in parenting these incredible kids, I’m certain I’m not alone in dealing with chronic exhaustion. Regardless of what my eventual diagnosis is, I will need to make some changes so I can enjoy life again. What sorts of self-care ninja skills have you implemented into your life to cope? How have you had to change in order to have something close to the life you envisioned? I have so much I want and need to do with my life, and am bummed that it’s probable many of them may need to be shelved.
That’s enough thinking for now. The demands for MOAR FOOD from the teen and preteen are now an ear-splitting din and I must go hunt and gather so my wee widdle ones don’t starve to death.
But damn, I’m tired.