I spoke to a Psy.D yesterday and told her I was feeling overwhelming anxiety about my delivery (I'm 37 weeks pregnant). I told her that I feel trapped by my ADHD family. I didn't realize this woman hadn't truly called me to set something up, but to tell me she wouldn't be available. I panicked and began to cry. I pulled myself together and contacted my Insurance company as advised by the Psy.D. I now have an appointment scheduled in less than a week. Now the events that led to my meltdown: everyday I clean, but by the end of the day one could never tell. So I decided last Saturday to clean the house top to bottom. My mother-in-law picked up my daughter for a few hours. By the end of the day only a few rooms remained and I had plans with friends. The next day my house looked exactly as it had on Friday, and I'd made myself ill attempting to do so much in my very pregnant state. I took it in stride. Getting rid of one ADHD family member hadn't been the answer. I'd simply have to take care of the house when no one is home. Then I felt the panic: what will the house look like when I come after delivering this little guy? Will I be able to manage the house, the dogs, the little baby, everyone else's needs, and my own? You may wonder why I'm attempting to manage everything on my own. Simple. My husband's idea of clean and my idea of clean are two very different things (not to mention he believes this is an appropriate arrangement as the bread winner and I the home maker). He will clean a toilet and tell you he cleaned the bathroom. I'll wash, dry, and fold laundry, but because I did not put that laundry away I must endure a comparison to his mother. He also breaks things sometimes out of hyperfocus, sometimes out of carelessness. We have large breed dogs and I've replaced leashes, harnesses, and collars (ironically, my husband's sister kept our dogs during our honeymoon, and I had to replace all the same items). I work very hard to not offend my husband, but that means I can never, ever-ever, ever offer constructive criticism, complain, or make suggestions (when I want him to do something, oh like add fish oil to his diet, I must wait for our monthly visit to his psychiatrist). And, thus, I'm trapped. I know I contributed to the monster situation, and I wholly accept responsibilty for my role. Now I just need a light at the end of the tunnel.