It has been a while since I last blogged. In fact it has been a long time since I have written anything beyond a shopping list and a status update. Things here haven't been going great and the last thing I wanted to do was write a whole lot of depressing drivel, but the fact is, that is how it is right now.
I'm burnt out. Completely and utterly empty of anything to give to anyone let alone myself. I've googled and it could be something called Carer's Fatigue, or possibly a hormonal imbalance caused by a brain tumour. I'm going with Carer's Fatigue. It seems far more likely.
I read that a mother of a child with autism has similar stress levels as a combat soldier. Does this surprise me? It did once, but not now. I rescue Nate from life or death situations on a regular basis. I rarely get a full night sleep, I have to listen to screaming and meltdowns, I have to drive according to his directions or he screams and starts lashing out at everyone. My life is controlled by him and his moods and I never know when I'll have to peel him off of Jude, rescue the cat from his clutches, drive around town looking for him or stop him from destroying my things. If Andre and I sit down for a coffee together and don't watch him there will inevitably be a flyscreen ripped out of the window or food thrown around the house, eggs smashed, dirt and mud dragged inside or he has ran away.
Imagine not being able to sit in your own home and just relax.
That is how we live.
All the time.
So that is why I haven't blogged. That is why I haven't a moment in the day where I have the energy or imagination left to write and do the things I love. The most I can be bothered doing by the time the kids are in bed is watching a crappy vamp-drama series and drinking coffee. Tonnes and tonnes of coffee because alcohol just means a hangover and I have to do it all again tomorrow and the day after that and every single day until the day I die.
And that is why I'm burnt out.