Pity Pot

Tonight I am throwing myself a pity party. Today has been one of the worst health days of my life, or maybe, it just seems worse because I've been trying to keep up after four children, a husband, a mother in law, and a house. I feel like hell run over, my head is about to explode, I want to vomit, curl up in a ball and whine to my mother, rock like a baby, and throw a temper tantrum screaming (while wearing air force quality ear plugs, of course!) all in no particular order.

I never quite imagined motherhood being this difficult. I had visions of being Mrs. Beaver, makeup, clothes, breakfast on the table, kids brushing their teeth before getting ready, and out the door. Kissing a content husband on the cheek before handing him a hot lunch for the day. A clean house, or at least one that had all the deep cleaning done and only needed to be maintained throughout the day. Instead, I fight a battle of fatigue and bad cognition.

And mind over matter does not win over fatigue induced by this disease. If it did, all of the projects I've started would be done. All of the things I've wanted to accomplish would be accomplished. I'll let you in a secret: I'm a very OCD clean person. I hate messes. HATE messes. I do not like opening my fridge and seeing a spill. But I have to choose. Do I spend that precious energy doing a load of laundry/dishes/etc. or wiping out the fridge at that exact moment? Or is my son crying? Or does my daughter need a bath? Or do I really, really need to sit down?

Here's another pickle. I'm forgetting so much I feel like an 80 year old woman. Actually, most 80 year old women have it better than I do. I feel like an 80 year old that got hit on the head with a frozen salmon, and then told to stand up when she fell down, like nothing happened. I don't know what happened, why I'm here anymore, or what to do next.

And honestly, I'm just scraping by. As a mom, as a wife, as a person, and it's driving me nuts. I hate having all of these ideas on paper, in my mind, and all these projects started, but not having the energy to do them. I hate that no one understands, and tells me: "I have days like that, I have kids too."

Yes, you have kids. You don't have MS. I would desperately trade shoes with you, any day just to get things done. Please.