0 comment Sunday, June 1, 2014 | admin
I got a lot of this look today....I suspect I was wearing it most the time.
I haven't been getting a whole lot of sleep for probably obvious reasons. So even though I had a tonne of stuff on the ol' itinerary today I knew I was doomed to fail before I even started. The driving license/housing benefit paperwork was left on my kitchen side as I hobbled out the door to the cab, in prep for meeting at school.
And even though I had donned the best outfit I have at the moment, I must have sufficiently still looked enough like hell that the head started bustling about (turns out she was a nurse before she went into education). I guess I must have ticked over an old instinct in her. It was enough they asked me how I was doing and asked it several times. But, if I thought I looked bad, the SEN unit woman looked worse. She was utterly distraught, watching her job disappear and spent some of the time with tears in her eyes. She said in a broken voice "I've failed". Now, I feel sorry for the woman because I still have some sense of humanity, but I still don't excuse her handling of my son the past two years. Yes, you did fail. Don't do it again.
Through conversation it came up as it invariably does that when I say I have social services involved, people think I'm getting a loads of help/respite care/cashflow. It's not true. I'm not getting any. Not even an hour of respite care. Nothing. So, the above look graced the faces of everyone in the room as they kept asking "But, don't you get ANYTHING? We know how much work he is." Yes, you do. No, I don't. Thank you Big Society. They were boggled. They even offered to push for help but the truth is, I won't get it and I know it. It's a waste of energy to keep asking, so I shan't. Hence the Plan B.
I was still such a zombie today that I sailed right out of the school without taking any of the paperwork I was given and had to email them to send it to me in sprog's book bag. So, now I was down in the village centre with nothing I intended on doing and no inclination to do much more. Too tired, been in town twice in the past week which is more than I've done in two months, and I think I continued to look like hell. The cashier at Boots was talking too fast for me to process what she was saying as I got more supplements for my son. The Marks & Spencer person who offered to carry my basket for me because it was obvious I was struggling to walk, let alone carry a basket - and yes, I know, M & S is rather posh food for a spoonie but it was close, it's good quality and means I pop it into an oven and don't have to cook anything.
I got home and did absolutely nothing but stare dully at the canvases I desperately wanted to paint. Not a chance. I surfed the social online network with the verve of an automation, then gave up, curled up on my daybed and slept for two hours till child came home. Only then I could deal with ordering him a pizza for tea, and playing a short game of Monopoly. Dishes are piled all over the kitchen but I can't manage it. It's 8:30 and I would be in bed right now but child is, conversely, going through an insomnia period and chances are it will be another hour before he's out.
I really wanted to get my photo in the post to mail off my driving application but no chance of that tomorrow. I have to prepare for over a week of uninterrupted wumping ("You're not getting any respite at all for half term?" "Nope." See above image). I may be able to get a friend to help me get out with child briefly enough to sort that but not sure. I'll try. I may not manage it but I can try. Will see what happens tomorrow.
Now, even though child is awake (and therefore this is risky) I am going upstairs to settle into my bed. I know myself though - I'm too primed to his schedule and the slightest noise from his room makes me completely alert. The few times I have been too exhausted to hear him, I berated myself for it, so hopefully tonight I can either have freedom from the guilt or a guardian angel to keep him from getting himself hurt if I don't wake up right away.
I haven't been getting a whole lot of sleep for probably obvious reasons. So even though I had a tonne of stuff on the ol' itinerary today I knew I was doomed to fail before I even started. The driving license/housing benefit paperwork was left on my kitchen side as I hobbled out the door to the cab, in prep for meeting at school.
And even though I had donned the best outfit I have at the moment, I must have sufficiently still looked enough like hell that the head started bustling about (turns out she was a nurse before she went into education). I guess I must have ticked over an old instinct in her. It was enough they asked me how I was doing and asked it several times. But, if I thought I looked bad, the SEN unit woman looked worse. She was utterly distraught, watching her job disappear and spent some of the time with tears in her eyes. She said in a broken voice "I've failed". Now, I feel sorry for the woman because I still have some sense of humanity, but I still don't excuse her handling of my son the past two years. Yes, you did fail. Don't do it again.
Through conversation it came up as it invariably does that when I say I have social services involved, people think I'm getting a loads of help/respite care/cashflow. It's not true. I'm not getting any. Not even an hour of respite care. Nothing. So, the above look graced the faces of everyone in the room as they kept asking "But, don't you get ANYTHING? We know how much work he is." Yes, you do. No, I don't. Thank you Big Society. They were boggled. They even offered to push for help but the truth is, I won't get it and I know it. It's a waste of energy to keep asking, so I shan't. Hence the Plan B.
I was still such a zombie today that I sailed right out of the school without taking any of the paperwork I was given and had to email them to send it to me in sprog's book bag. So, now I was down in the village centre with nothing I intended on doing and no inclination to do much more. Too tired, been in town twice in the past week which is more than I've done in two months, and I think I continued to look like hell. The cashier at Boots was talking too fast for me to process what she was saying as I got more supplements for my son. The Marks & Spencer person who offered to carry my basket for me because it was obvious I was struggling to walk, let alone carry a basket - and yes, I know, M & S is rather posh food for a spoonie but it was close, it's good quality and means I pop it into an oven and don't have to cook anything.
I got home and did absolutely nothing but stare dully at the canvases I desperately wanted to paint. Not a chance. I surfed the social online network with the verve of an automation, then gave up, curled up on my daybed and slept for two hours till child came home. Only then I could deal with ordering him a pizza for tea, and playing a short game of Monopoly. Dishes are piled all over the kitchen but I can't manage it. It's 8:30 and I would be in bed right now but child is, conversely, going through an insomnia period and chances are it will be another hour before he's out.
I really wanted to get my photo in the post to mail off my driving application but no chance of that tomorrow. I have to prepare for over a week of uninterrupted wumping ("You're not getting any respite at all for half term?" "Nope." See above image). I may be able to get a friend to help me get out with child briefly enough to sort that but not sure. I'll try. I may not manage it but I can try. Will see what happens tomorrow.
Now, even though child is awake (and therefore this is risky) I am going upstairs to settle into my bed. I know myself though - I'm too primed to his schedule and the slightest noise from his room makes me completely alert. The few times I have been too exhausted to hear him, I berated myself for it, so hopefully tonight I can either have freedom from the guilt or a guardian angel to keep him from getting himself hurt if I don't wake up right away.
Labels: Languishment, Sprog