I'm Just Done. And It's Only October.

That show aired last Friday. After watching it, I was left with the same frustration that I've had for a long time. It pisses me off to no end that the only two people who are talking are two of the biggest nuts from the whole situation. Ugh. (Of course they are getting all the attention...the media loves crazy, and these two have enough crazy for all of us.)

Therapy continues to be a huge stresser. Sh.awn's had 5 sessions canceled (2 we did because they were sick) while Ja.son's had three canceled. Yeah. Sounds fun, right? After my carefully constructed schedule was set (remember it took an entire hour), Sh.awn's therapist injured her shoulder (and got pregnant). No one is there to cover her on one of the days I set. Before explaining that to us, they'd wait until about 5 the day before his appointment to call and say he was canceled for the next day.

So, we are back to trying to squeeze in yet another therapy session on a third day a week to make sure Sh.awn gets all his time.

Jason can't stand his OT. Like, he won't even let her talk to him without losing his shit. This is the ONLY person in the entire building he has reacted to in that way. She'll come tell him she wants to play with him and he'll tell her no he wants to play with someone else. Every time. Then he cries. Every time.

Sigh.

She isn't my favorite person either (she doesn't relate well with kids and has yet to read his eval from what I can tell), but wouldn't you know it that we are stuck with her. If we don't use her, then we'd have to go to a four day a week schedule. That prospect makes my head explode.

All of the NICU emotions are in play here, too. Yesterday is the anniversary of Sh.awn's water breaking. I hoped I'd be over this crap by now. Apparently not.

My relationship with Is.aac is strained. We are doing a lot of bickering; I am just plain tired of always feeling like I do everything wrong. He has this way of nitpicking about everything I do...and well, it just sucks. I can usually blow that kind of crap off, but it is harder to shake now. Plus, even when he is supposed to be helping me, it feels like I still have all of my shit AND his shit to take care of...

I am stressed.

I am overwhelmed.

I am sad.

I am angry.

I am still not in a good place, and I can't quite figure out how to get my head out of this funk.