We were finally settled in our new home with Michael flying in and out Monday to Friday. Life started to settle into a routine. And I felt so lonely.
Our days were so busy with appointments and life but come the late afternoons/evenings and suddenly it was just Cameron and me all alone. No adults to talk to, no adults to eat with, no adults to share the burden with, no adults to cry with. The evenings were horrible. I'd look after Cameron and then stare at the kitchen unenthused to cook. I started eating frozen dinners because they seemed healthy and were hot in minutes.
Cameron would often go to bed at a very reasonable hour so I would sit and eat on my own and watch TV on my own, and potter around the house on my own. It wasn't right, this wasn't my plan. I had a husband and here I was all on my own.
Eventually each evening I would head to bed and without a doubt, whether the light was on or off, the second my head hit my pillow Cameron would start crying. It didn't matter what the time was, early or late. It was as if he was linked to my eye lids and as they tried to shut his opened.
I would do everything possible to get him back to sleep but it was a thankless task. He would usually end up sleeping in my bed with me and when he finally went to sleep I was exhausted and frustrated.
Most nights were restless and consequently we were not early to rise. We were roll out of bed in a blind panic because we were due at an appointment in half an hour. Thankfully the freeway wasn't as bad back then as it is now and I perfected flying out of bed, dressing myself and Cameron, medicating Cameron, grabbing bottles and food for Cameron along with the always packed change bag and flying out the door in no time flat.
It was this time in my life when I really started to not look after myself anymore. I generally skipped breakfast, I existed on little sleep. I drank copious amounts of coffee and grabbed fast food on the run. Showers were skipped, clothes were recycled, make up became something of the past and haircuts became infrequent along with colours. It was a slow and gradual process and the Jane I knew began to slip away into exhaustion and despair.
I didn't take to drinking and I'm very glad I didn't. I was always fearful of drinking even a small glass of wine on my own because I knew I had to be alert and ready for Cameron at any time and I knew I couldn't do that if I'd been drinking. A glass of wine or two is a commonly talked about crutch amongst the Special Needs Community along with coffee and chocolate. I embraced the coffee and chocolate, big time.
This period of time was not an easy one for me and I became frustrated with Michael flying in and out and getting, what seemed to me at the time to be, the best of both worlds.
Our days were so busy with appointments and life but come the late afternoons/evenings and suddenly it was just Cameron and me all alone. No adults to talk to, no adults to eat with, no adults to share the burden with, no adults to cry with. The evenings were horrible. I'd look after Cameron and then stare at the kitchen unenthused to cook. I started eating frozen dinners because they seemed healthy and were hot in minutes.
Cameron would often go to bed at a very reasonable hour so I would sit and eat on my own and watch TV on my own, and potter around the house on my own. It wasn't right, this wasn't my plan. I had a husband and here I was all on my own.
Eventually each evening I would head to bed and without a doubt, whether the light was on or off, the second my head hit my pillow Cameron would start crying. It didn't matter what the time was, early or late. It was as if he was linked to my eye lids and as they tried to shut his opened.
I would do everything possible to get him back to sleep but it was a thankless task. He would usually end up sleeping in my bed with me and when he finally went to sleep I was exhausted and frustrated.
Most nights were restless and consequently we were not early to rise. We were roll out of bed in a blind panic because we were due at an appointment in half an hour. Thankfully the freeway wasn't as bad back then as it is now and I perfected flying out of bed, dressing myself and Cameron, medicating Cameron, grabbing bottles and food for Cameron along with the always packed change bag and flying out the door in no time flat.
It was this time in my life when I really started to not look after myself anymore. I generally skipped breakfast, I existed on little sleep. I drank copious amounts of coffee and grabbed fast food on the run. Showers were skipped, clothes were recycled, make up became something of the past and haircuts became infrequent along with colours. It was a slow and gradual process and the Jane I knew began to slip away into exhaustion and despair.
I didn't take to drinking and I'm very glad I didn't. I was always fearful of drinking even a small glass of wine on my own because I knew I had to be alert and ready for Cameron at any time and I knew I couldn't do that if I'd been drinking. A glass of wine or two is a commonly talked about crutch amongst the Special Needs Community along with coffee and chocolate. I embraced the coffee and chocolate, big time.
This period of time was not an easy one for me and I became frustrated with Michael flying in and out and getting, what seemed to me at the time to be, the best of both worlds.
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