The reality of caregiver stress

It has been a particularly stressful and hard week in our house. We dropped one med with the guidance of the pysch. G had the GI flu/stuff early in the week and chin hitting has come back in a full blow, horrible storm of self-injury. Nothing shakes me deeper than watching him chin hit.

Nothing.

If you don't quite understand...here's a video to add emphasis.

Because chin hitting provokes some very deep emotions for me; I thought this would be a good time to self-reflect and purge something that has been weighing on my mind.

I have 2 very divided versions of myself as Grant's mother. I came to the conclusion some time ago that I have PTSD or something like it with and around the chin hits. I am on a never ending grieving cycle that very few people could or do understand. To have a week like this (which, by the way, is not showing signs of easing up any time soon); I get super angst-y and depressed.

If you know me in real life, you might not see it. I think a smile hides a lot, but I also realized having a full time job helps too. I try real damn hard to forget when I go to work. Mon-Fri, I leave the house around 6:30 am and until I walk back into my home at 3 pm; I get to be free of worry about G. Well, you know, for the most part. And don't get me wrong. I don't want to forget about HIM. I want to forget about the problems. I want to forget that when I walk through the door he is going to scream, cry, and hurt himself until I get respite to make dinner when Scott gets home. I am fortunate that my position keeps me so unbelievably busy that I can hardly make a personal phone call to take care of his non-stop dr appts, etc. That causes more stress, but that story is for another day.

I don't know if it's because of this blog or just time or just not seeing people, but I appreciate that the questions about when he is going to the hospital have died down quite a bit. I am truly thankful for this. As much as I love this little boy with all of my heart and soul; I love going to work and having this time to do something else. I love teaching art. I love being a teacher to 500 students and I love that any and all problems I see at work do not pale in comparison to the ones I will spend my evenings watching and experiencing along side my son.

This leaves a 2nd version of me. I feel so unlike this side that I can't even type this in first person.

This woman is house-bound and broken. She doesn't care what she looks like, she is surviving a storm. She is screaming for help and crying daily. This is not me or rather the person I ever want to be, but it's what I have become.

My mind focuses on the negative. Questions if therapy would be remotely helpful (who has time for this?). Dreams of things she would rather be doing than holding her own child's arms down so he won't tear out her hair, head butt her, or break another bone in his own body.

This version of me is sad and done. I still have plans to fix "this", but this version of me is lost in a world of self-injury with her son. Helpless. Scared. And completely and utterly over every second of keeping her son safe from himself.

You don't get to see this side because I don't like her. I don't like crying in front of people and some people have shown me that they don't like tears. I hate tears. I think they are stupid. I don't know why we cry (as humans). Why can't I just feel sad without water dripping down my face? Making my throat clamp up and dry out? Snot running down your face? It's annoying. Sadness,I would prefer to experience it quietly, but my body doesn't agree.

I haven't always been like this. I won't be like this forever. His chin hits come and go. It's like a roller coaster. Sometimes it goes away, sometimes it's intense. The problem has been that when the chin hits go away, something else is there. So it never really eases up. It just changes.

I have noticed lately that he is moving up his arms. He wants to wear his gloves (for the most part all day). But, he is moving up to his wrist. This is exactly what I was warned that might (and probably would) happen. He doesn't want to wear a helmet. So while finding one with a chin cover seems logical, we are going into summer. I can't put this kid in a wrap of soft padding. I can't, but I hold him down regardless. On my clock, I am not watching his hurt himself. I can't.

His chin is about to crack open. It's red and raw. His eye areas look consistently purple from tiredness (meds?) and from hitting.

Just like last year at this time, it is another hard spring. Everything is under my skin. I am constantly one step away from telling someone how annoying I find their behavior and if you are my husband than you get too much of this from me.

It's hard to know how to wrap this up. But, I haven't been in the mood to make plans. Before spring break, I had a lot of people tell me they want to meet up and I appreciate this. I do. But, if I haven't seen you in a long time...know it's not you. It's all me. I am not in the mood to socialize. I am not in the mood to talk about my sad stuff. I am not in the mood to pretend everything is ok and to have another conversation where it's avoided either. Tomorrow I might feel different, but as of lately my caregiver stress is really high. The need to be home as much as possible is higher. These are not easy days, but I know life doesn't stay the same. I hold on to hope that his number will come up soon (to go to KKI). I hold on to hope they will some how find the answers that haven't been so obvious to me.