Having bipolar, being bipolar … whatever the PC term is – can well and truly suck.
I do pop pills, I’m on three different meds for my bipolar and another couple for my fibromyalgia (and isn’t that another topic for a different day). Instead the meds make me tired, the fibro makes me tired, work makes me tired … and in the end I sleep as much as I can and keep on plugging along, and never feel like I’m making progress.
I want to be a writer … I desperately wish I could focus and concentrate enough to write and write and dust off every plot bunny I have, finish every story I’ve already started, write the big book I’ve dreamed of for years.
I want to be better at everything … and by everything I mean everything — If I could be a better mom I could manage to keep all the kids on all thier therapies and they’d make better progress. If I could be a better mom I would always pay attention to every little thing my boys say, and don’t say, when they look out the window and wish for a sunny day. If I could be a better mom I would be a better housekeeper *laughs* – but that one will never happen. If I could be a better mom I could keep the boys on schedules and make sure they brushed their teeth and washed their faces before every meal, that they took a bath every single night. If I was a better mom there would be less grumbling on my part and more enjoying of what they have to offer me every day. I mean, I stop to enjoy the little things, and I appreciate all the gains they’ve made. But it all seems so much harder, you know? I don’t feel able to just enjoy it because I feel like I’ve done everything I can do for them. Instead I feel horribly lacking as a mother. As a housekeeper, well I won’t even go there.
If I was better at organizing records and files and household stuff we’d never be behind on another bill. *snorts* Yeah right. But maybe we’d mostly be caught up most of the time. If I was better at staying on top of things, I would be able to remember when all the appointments for me and the kids were.
If I were better at working towards goals I wouldn’t be dreaming of all the little things I wish I was able to do, instead I would be doing them. All those stories I want to write, that book I’ve been dreaming of, the magazine articles I’ve considering pursueing. All of it would be in the works and I’d feel like I was doing something more with my life. And doesn’t that just sound so stupid? Something more? Like what? Being a mom of three special needs kids isn’t enough? Maybe if I felt like I was a good mom … but most of the time I really don’t. Oh, everyone seems to think I am – most everyone who deals with the kids thinks so … but I know better.
I know all the things I could be doing better. They eat at me. Pick at me. Pull me apart a little bit at a time.
Enough of the pity party. Wanted to check in since I hadn’t for a bit. I plan on trying to write a little bit everyday – it’s a small goal I’m setting for myself. So if anyone comes across and something resonates with you – let me know … it might encourage me to meet that goal. *smile*