I have a work conference in California, am leaving a week from Sunday and will be gone for four days. I made it so that I am there for as little time as possible, so I don't have to be away from the kid. Still, because of the way the flights work, I'll have most of the first day to do nothing in San Diego. Time to myself 3,000 miles from the kid.
I'm afraid of this trip. I'm afraid that when I get four days away from the grueling, relentless, often-joyless grind of my daily life, I am not going to want to go back. Even before the diagnosis, it was a bit of a bummer to go back, because life was pretty hectic even then. But now...I don't know. I honestly think I'll be praying for the plane to crash. I do have those thoughts these days. Yesterday, I got an ache in my side and though, "oh good, my appendix, I can rest in the hospital"
Everything would be easier if one of us could quit our jobs, or if we had family nearby to help us, to just give us a goddamn break once a week. Or, now that we're really dreaming, if we were filthy rich and could hire tons of therapists to work with him around the clock. Someday, when I've energy, I'll write down for posterity a typical couple days in the life of a working parent of an autistic kid. I'm too tired right now.
Lately the kid refuses to go to sleep. Last night we put him in bed at 8pm and he kicked and yelled and sang loudly and talked loudly and jumped until 10:20. At which time, it was time for me to go to bed. This means we literally get NO BREAK from him. Not even a fucking hour of peace and quiet. Since I work from home 3 days a week, I'm immersed in him all the time anyway; I hear everything that goes on with the sitter, and my husband, even while working. Something has got to change. I'm going to lose my mind, I really am.
No comments:
Post a Comment