Decompression

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People wonder what I do all day, a woman on disability, a single Mom on welfare, a transplant who after 5 years can count her closest friends in the area on one hand.

People don’t understand why work is so hard for me. Why I can’t keep repetitive motion in my arms, why I can’t be on my feet for more than 15 minutes. They want to blame my weight.

My weight which I have no control over, but I’m working on. My fibro which I have no control over, but I’m working on. My getting sick all the time, which I have no control over, but I’m working on.

So what do I do all day?
I get up
Get the kids off to school
Go to therapy, physical therapy, occupational therapy, aquatic therapy
Followed by more therapy
Then make some calls and/or do some homework
Then maybe shopping or an appointment
Get the kids (or just one kid on m or w)
Do homework
Pick up other kid
Possibly some errands
Homework
BSC comes over/prepare dinner
Wind kids down
Say good night’s
Explain why they can’t sleep in my bed
Say good night’s
Start my own hw or cleaning
Send kids back to bed
Go back to doing my stuff
Explain why kids can’t sleep in my bed
Finally finish my tasks
Take meds
Lay down and hope to sleep
Lather Rinse Repeat
Add in chaos, stress, bills and pressure and that’s my daily routine.

Sometimes I decompress, I deserve to decompress. Even if that means laying on my best friends couch, watching kitchen nightmares while she paints her face.

Everyone deserves a few hours of me time

Shaye
Xoxo

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