Running on Empty

So, it’s been a bit of a tough week to be honest. Things were going on as normal, ticking away, but clearly something was brewing in the background.

My tiredness levels are at an all-time high. Every day I get home from work at 5pm and immediately fall asleep for an hour. On Tuesday I didn’t wake up on time. Kike had left with Summer for jiu-jitsu and I had said goodbye… then passed back out.

I woke up an hour later, leaving River completely unsupervised.

I felt awful. That immediate drop in your stomach when you realise what could have happened.

He was fine. Actually, in a very good mood because he got an extra hour of YouTube.

The Fog

Wednesday came and I felt like I was in a fog again. I was there, but everything was harder. My body felt heavier, I was slower to respond.

By the evening I was just going through the motions, knowing that one small thing might tip the balance.

And then it did.

A simple message about a change in my work schedule. Nothing dramatic, nothing bad, just a change.

I burst into tears. My breathing quickened. I kept repeating over and over, I don’t think I can do this. I just can’t keep doing this.

Kike was quick to calm and soothe and I managed to pull myself back together in time to collect the kids.

But the feeling didn’t go away. I’d quietened it, but it was still there, hanging over everything.

It wasn’t just that moment, it felt like everything had been building towards it for a while.

The Decision I’ve Been Avoiding

It’s brought me to a decision I’ve been putting off for a while.

I can’t work full time right now.

It’s not the work itself. There’s just only so much I can hold. I’m stretching myself so thin that I feel like I’m not doing any part of my life well.

I’m tired at work.
I’m too tired to play.
I’m too tired to stay up and talk to Kike.

The to-do list keeps growing, the fridge is always empty, the appointments and meetings build up. You get the idea.

It’s Not Just Me

I follow a lot of SEND parenting accounts on Instagram and recently I’ve noticed a pattern I can’t ignore. So many parents quietly stepping back from work, reducing hours, or stopping altogether. Not because they want to, but because something has to give.

And the more I read, the more I realise it’s not just Instagram. Organisations like Carers UK and Contact talk about it too. The reality is that a lot of SEND parents are trying to hold everything together until, eventually, they can’t anymore.

And I can feel myself heading in that direction if I don’t step in and change something.

I’ve written before about not wanting to stop working and that hasn’t changed. But I think what I’m starting to understand is that it doesn’t have to be all or nothing.

Maybe this is the bit in the middle.

A Small Shift

The bit where I stop pushing through at full speed and admit that something needs to change.

Talking it through with Kike and actually saying it out loud, I can’t do full time right now, has made everything feel a little calmer. Like I’ve stopped fighting something and started working with it instead.

It’s not a perfect solution. It’s not even a long-term plan. It will put some strain on us financially, and that’s not something we’re taking lightly.

But it’s what we need right now.

And right now is enough.

And Then… the Eye

On other, slightly less reflective news, River poked me in the eye on Thursday.

It was a mistimed stim. He was jumping and flapping, then got distressed because he had grass in his shoe. I bent down to remove the evil grass and he jumped up.

Bam. Finger straight in the eye.

I didn’t think too much of it at the time. It hurt, but of course it would, most things do if you poke them.

Carried on as normal. Kike was working late so dinner and bedtime were on me. Went to bed as usual.

But in the night I kept waking up. It hurt, and now I couldn’t open my eye. By the morning it was glued shut with a yellow, sticky substance. Kike took one look at me.

“That doesn’t look too good babe. I think you need a doctor.”

I washed away the goop and forced it open, yeah, it didn’t look great.

Opticians sent me straight to eye A&E.

And that was my Friday. Three hours in eye A&E, fun times.

A friend messaged me later saying she’d found it odd how many people were in an eye A&E.
“Like… how have we all specifically hurt our eyes badly enough to end up here?”

And honestly, she’s right. Once you’re sitting there, you do start looking around thinking… how have we all ended up here?

I’m now mildly tempted to Google all the different body-part-specific A&Es and see what else is out there.

I’m all good. Scratched the white part, so nothing serious. I’ve got antibiotic drops (which are more like a cream) that Kike now gets to administer every four hours because apparently I can write a book but can’t put something in my own eye.

It should look less gruesome in a week or so.

So if you see me, yes I look tired (I usually do), but this time it’s also an eye injury, not just permanent bloodshot eyes.

Thanks, River.

Good job he’s cute.