Where's Waldo? I Mean, Deb

Man, I look at my site meter and see that people are still stopping by here to check in despite nearly a month of silence.  Thanks for a.) caring, b.) wondering what this wack job is up to now, and/or c.) being loyal readers of this chaos.

As my friend, J, said to me yesterday, 'I know you've had plenty to blog about this past month!'  Yes, indeed, I could certainly fill more pages with blah, blah, blah...general suckitude...blah, blah, blah; but as I've said before, I hate that there are long stretches where this blog becomes nothing more than a bitch fest.

I will say this:  not having in-home ABA therapy for the last seven weeks has been awful.  Really and truly awful.  M is unhappy.  I am unhappy.  Everyone is unhappy.  There are sleep issues with both boys that are compounding the unhappiness.  Negative behaviors have returned to M's world, (and then some), and my mental state just doesn't seem to be fully in check to deal with it.  I'm working on that part, but I sometimes feel like I'm walking around like a bleary-eyed drunk, which is ironic since I've actually been drinking a lot less the past couple of months.

When I was a child--starting around age six and lasting probably until I was 13--I had a recurring dream whenever I had a high fever.  In the dream, I was in a white room with no dimensions to it.  I was standing there alone and all of a sudden tires began being thrown at me.  At first the tires were quite small and thrown gently to me, (I had to catch each one), but they would gradually get larger and thrown at a faster pace.  Inevitably, when I got to the point where there was no way I was going to catch the tire, the dream would switch to a playground.  I was on one of those animals atop a large spring coil.  A boy was sitting on one next to me staring.  Never blinking.  He was going back and forth very fast and then got slower...and slower...and slower...and then I would wake up.  I know, I know.  Totally messed up, right?  Probably should have seen a therapist about that one way back when.  But the reason I bring this past dream up is because I'm feeling like I'm in that room with all those tires right now and I'm about to drop them...and then what?  What really happens when I can no longer catch all those damned tires?

I know that there are a lot of people in this world that have lives far more stressful than mine.  I know how fortunate I am in so many ways.  But when tires are being thrown at you from all directions, sometimes it's really hard to appreciate the goodness.  I suppose that's a New Year's resolution in the works.  Wouldn't it be nice if there were no need for resolutions?