The call comes down the stairs, as I'm getting ready to climb into bed.
"Mom - my akathisia, it's bothering me!"
I'm feeling so strung out. Getting a cold, aching back, so, so tired. And the need is so great. Her need, because she just genuinely needs so much, and my son's need because otherwise he gets lost in his sister's disorder. And they both deserve to have all the help and comfort they can get. I've said it before, I'm spread thin.
This afternoon my sister phoned from another time zone and filled me in on her diagnosis of my daughter. No, she's not a doctor, psychologist or even educated in the field. She just wants to help and always feels a need to have the answers for the rest of us, whether we want her brand of fix-it or not. And I know I'm not gracious, but I don't want her two cents worth on this one. She argues with me when I explain the current diagnosis and treatment plan, not that they're working, but she's just wrong. I know that. And I feel defensive and angry.
So, back to the evening's entertainment. I head back up the stairs to rub feet until Lily's close to falling asleep. Mid rub, I go tuck in brother again and try to reassure him that he's on my list, I'm aware of him, appreciate and love him. And I do. I go back in to finish the foot rub, trying not to rub my resentment into her skin, trying to keep thoughts of loving my children in my tired frustrated head.
But the train that's running through my mind tonight is about the creeping reality about my classes. I think I'm just going to have to drop my classes and delay graduation. This is hard for me. The individual thing that has kept me relatively sane through many years of single parenthood is my work towards an undergraduate college degree. I'm so close, just 15 units away. Old business, needing to finish college 30 plus years after high school. I feel like I need this degree. But the truth is that my daughter needs me more than I need the degree. That sounds altruistic. It's not. There is no contest. But I feel bad about it anyway.