Life, Don't Talk to Me About Life

Things have been a bit rough around here lately.  As you know, the living situation is far from ideal, and there's not much to be done about it for the foreseeable future.  We're also coming up to summer vacation, Hubby has been cast in 2 shows (along with his regular, full-time job), and I'm starting to feel the overwhelm coming on.

I think the only way I'm gong to get anything done is to plan it, write it on our calendar, and do it.  For far too long, I've made tentative plans and then crossed my fingers, hoping that the stars will align, the angels will sing, and what I hope for will come to pass.  And what's ended up happening is that I've had to change my plans, putting them on the back burner until some vague point in the future.  

Because I'm Mom, and everyone else comes first.

Which is bull pucky.  Just because I'm a mother, and just because my kids are on the spectrum, doesn't mean I have to continuously come last and sacrifice everything (jobs, friends, etc).  I think I've become my own self-fulfilling prophecy, however, by believing just that.  Believing that by allowing Hubby to do his thing,  and not let myself do mine, I'm making my family happy, even if I'm miserable.  I've believed that asking for what I want, and pursuing it, makes me selfish.

But it doesn't. 

OF COURSE my kids are my priority, but that doesn't mean I have to give up everything else, forever.

So it's time to figure out what I want, and go for it. 

It's also been difficult watching the Bowe Bergdahl story explode.  No one really knows what happened, and seeing him and his family attacked in the national media is incredibly upsetting and disheartening.  Partly for selfish reasons: If a country can turn on a POW like this, with no concrete evidence, what will happen to people like my kids when they're grown and need support?  What happens to the most vulnerable members of our culture?

If he's a deserter, let him be tried.  Here.  At home.  If he had some kind of mental break, give him the help he needs.  

I worry that we're too far gone.  We have become the Romans in the Coliseum, cheering as people are thrown to the lions.  I don't have much hope for the future, which makes the present a very hard place to be.  

And I think I may need my anti-depressants/anti-anxiety meds again.  Because I've been feeling levels of anxiety and despair that I haven't felt in a very long time.  The tapping helps, but I think I need a bit of EXTRA help.

The last thing my kids need is a mom who is unable to cope.