I anticipated to hit "the wall" on Thursday. But thursday came and went and no wall.
The wall showed up on Friday instead.
I got WG and AB to school despite being insanely dizzy and I went back to bed. 4 hours later the dog was whining to go out and therefore was the ONLY reason I rolled myself out of bed. The fact that I could smell myself became the ONLY reason I managed to waddle myself to the shower. The fact that my belly growled was the ONLY reason I managed to eat. An email from an Orlando mom made me cry. (thanks a lot!)
I'm exhausted. Beyond exhausted. I'm done. Sissy called Thursday night  and I refused to talk to her. I don't want to think about her but the nurse at the hospital called needing verbal permission to change one of her meds. I don't want to think about her but then her therapist called Friday morning to see how she was doing. I don't want to think about her but then I dreamed about her the whole four hour nap. I don't want to think about her but her room needs to be weeded through because wow, she has a lot of crap in there. (i'm not kidding, she'll be a hoarder in her adult life. mark my words.) I don't want to think about her but I've just typed an entire paragraph about her.
I can't believe how immediately the four of us have returned to "normal". I can't believe how immediately our home is peaceful. I can't believe how much friggin' time we have!!! I was bored Thursday night, actually said the words, "I'm bored" and then laughed at the irony. Bored as opposed to being blitzed out of my mind because of one more rage fest a la Sissy. Seriously. Bored. *shakes head at self*
I miss all the beautiful women I was with this weekend. Why don't all of you live HERE??! *I'm flipping you all the bird because I'm mad at you for not living next door*
I didn't plan it but I had a session with my therapist at 2 on Friday. That was fortuitous. Actually, it makes me proud of myself for internally and subconsciously knowing what I need and getting that need met for myself. It is impossible to relate how often I put myself last and usually forget about myself altogether. I takes taking a long, hard look in the mirror to jar me back to reality. (Thank God only Herman Munster breaks mirrors when he looks in them because I've probably come close to that a few times.)
AB is not ok. I'm not pressing him, I'm just going to wait out the tide. Either he'll process his own grief about Sissy or he'll need my help. If I dive in now, I'll make it worse. I think he's conflicted about her hospitalization. He verbally says that he just wants her to get better but there's no way he isn't cognizant of the immediate decrease in sensory issues for himself and somewhere in that head of his, he's drawing the connections ... and is probably mad about it.
WG is giddy. She doesn't want Sissy to ever come back. Except that thursday night she lamented that now she doesn't have someone to play with. Not that Sissy was a whole lot of fun but it was the fact that WG had another female buddy. we've put one of her lovies in the van, a permanent car buddy for her, as a concession.
I'm somewhere in between the two of them. The Dad hasn't voiced his status yet.
The wall hurts.
Next will be the panic attacks. They came last time Sissy was at RTC and never went away. I'm not looking forward to that. I think I'd rather sit at the base of the wall seeing stars and birdies for a while than progress onward to the panic attacks.
Oh what these ill children do to their families. Words will never express it.
 ugh about that phone call. sissy hates the phone. rages about the phone. last time at RTC it would be pulling teeth to get her to talk on the phone. So she called us?!?!? And then lied to the staff (dad was listening and she didn't know it) and I had bells and alarms and whistles and an immediate increase in my pulse. She's trying to play a game and I'm not playing anymore.