Re-Entry Is A Bitch

I'm back in Vermont. Back home, with my dog, my family, and all of the other creature comforts of familiarity.

As I was driving Youngest Child to school this morning he asked how my blog writing was going. I gave a noncommittal answer somewhere along the lines of "Meh".

Then he immediately launched into how I had left the tab open for my blog when I left my lap top behind for him to use so he could keep up with his on-line class while his computer was being fixed. He was upset over my writing about how he is a man child and how he holds the bathroom hostage. I do remember the bathroom complaint, which I still stand by as being completely valid. The other thing though.....

I'm too tired both physically and emotionally to reread all of my blog posts to see which one is the culprit.

I write about my children because I am often at a loss as to what to write about if not about them.

But it turns out there is still a ton of shit from my own child to revisit and sort out.

Stuff that I had been blissfully unaware of until just a couple of weeks ago.

Each of my friends that I walk with, separately, asked if I had another therapy session coming up soon. I assured them yes, on Friday. Which I had scheduled before my trip to Maine.

I have told little bits to various people. I have yet to let it all out to anyone. It's going to be a fair amount of ugly crying I can tell just by the resistance I am feeling to discuss.

There's a certain amount of anger that has come up in all of this that I'm also not entirely comfortable with. If for no other reason than the source of this anger is no longer a worthy opponent. I could bring up the past, rant and rave. But I still wouldn't get any answers. It wouldn't make me feel any better.

Best case scenario I would make the frail husk of a person that is now my mother incredibly sad, and also angry. Which would then have the ripple effect of her being angry towards other people as she rants and raves about the unfairness and ingratitude of her eldest daughter. Because even after all this time, I am cautious around her temper.

This all lurks in the background of my thoughts as I go through the motions of laundry and dishes.

It has added another heavy layer to the lacklusterness of my mood as we enter into darker days.