Been There, Felt That

I have 4 extremely busy kids. At one point this summer we had 15 activities that happened 1 - 5 times per week at the same time: 6 baseball teams, 1 soccer team, 1 hockey team, 1 dance class, 2 kids in marching band, 2 weekly therapy appointments, and 2 weekly social appointments. In April, we only had 3 of those 6 baseball teams and marching band hadn't started but we also had 3 kids in 2 choirs, 3 kids in 2 scout groups, 4 kids in 3 school musicals, and a wide variety of after-school clubs. Plus Hubby works more than full time and all 4 kids plus myself were in school full time.

I practically live out of my car because I am taking someone to or from an activity or running an errand or to the dentist or doctor or to/from an friend's house or something along those lines. For there to be a space on my calendar that doesn't have anything scheduled - an entire DAY - I literally get scared. (For the record, I don't push the kids into activities. If anything, I have to hold them back.)

This article I linked to really resonates with me because I keep going. I make sure the kids get where they need to be semi-almost-kinda-not-quite-but-close-ish on time with mostly-usually-unless-I-forgot-or-lost-it-again what they need to have. I juggle the schedules and can usually tell you who should be where on any given school evening. I get good grades - straight A's (if an A- counts as an A) and I can smile and carry on a coherent conversation with other parents at events, which I almost-always-without-extra-qualifiers attend.

Friends and family assume this means I'm doing good. I hide the cutting pretty well and I never discuss the constant suicidal urges. I try not to even let them know when I am spiraling and can pull it off to some degree. If they knew how dark things are inside my head... it wouldn't be pretty.

But I know that there aren't any additional resources for me. I see my med-shrink monthly. He informs me that there is nothing more meds can do for me; it's all psychological and not biological now. I see my talk-shrink weekly; not making much progress there either. I slide downward, realizing every day how unlikely it is that things will ever improve beyond where they are now. Baby steps, maybe, but things seem to be plateaued with little hope of further significant progress. At this point, I'm just not that sick and what sick I am is all in my head.

I want out.