Picking up the Pieces

I feel like everyday I pick up the pieces of the shatters, the fragments of my heart, soul and of my mind. Everyday I wake up and say it’s going to be different today; today it’s going to be better. Today is the day that the medications is going to work and therapy and all that I do for Ally will just click and she will transform like some magically fairytale and become the normal perfect child I so desperately I want her to become. But that’s a lie. I can’t just wish away a disease, nor can I hide out in my room till it goes away.

I am trying to find way to cope with her diagnosis because right now it rules my life. It makes me sick. I have been diagnosed with depression because it makes me sad as hell to know that she will have to live like this for the rest of her life. And she will have to learn to take care of herself and navigate life. I also have fibromyalgia and there are days where I the pain that is so bad I cant even get out of bed. But I do get up and go without pain medications because I have an 8 year old that needs me more. And I cry inside because no one understands the love of a mother until she becomes one herself.

Even my husband doesn’t understand how to handle our little girl. He tries but often ends up with upset and more then tears. We have a small circle of friends that I can turn to for emotional support but hard to go to for respite care.  It’s hard for me to trust because I have no idea how she will react, or how they will react to her.  But I am lucky in some regards for one neighbor Hope she gets me. She is there to listen to me cry and will hand me a glass of wine and help me formulate a plan on how to tackle the problems that arise. She will take Ally to the pool when I need a break.  And Hope is the first one to celebrate Ally’s small successes.

Lately there have been quite a few broken pieces. My sanity has suffered the most. Trying to keep your family together and whole while your 8 year old is on the warpath is hard. Trying to represent that your family is normally function military family isn’t easy. There is an expectation as an Officer’s wife of how you should look, act and be.  And there are days where I cant do that. I cant be who they want me to be. I can’t wear that mask. I have to ignore it and hurry home to my safe place and hide. I take it one day at a time. I know it will get better but today its one of those days where I am feeling down. But its ok for us mothers to have our pity days. It can’t always be sunshine and rainbows. We are only human.