Today sucked giant monkey balls, hot sweaty ones. The meltdown started early and sucked his siblings in like a viciously swirling tornado on its way to Oz. No one was safe from the verbal onslaught of profanity, hate filled curses or wishes of death and destruction. We all got sucked in and couldn’t get out. Eldest started yelling at him, sisters start yelling at eldest, I walk out of the shower to Armageddon so I yelled at everyone. That started a domino effect from all but the youngest (who had locked himself in my room crying) against me. I am this, I don’t do that, I let him get away with this or that and the lists went on, they all just kept reciting all the things they must have been holding in for months and they finally let it come flooding out. And it hurt. Alot. And I lost it. Alot. I couldn’t process all the anger they were lobbing at me like tennis balls over the net at Wimbledon and I broke. I felt like my heart and head shattered into tiny fragments, see all this time I thought I was doing ok. No, we don’t have the latest, greatest gadgets and gizmos and yes, there is a lot of tension in the house with ASD, ADHD, ODD and a slew of other acronyms for a shit-ton of stuff that requires therapists and medication. Mix in all the drama of the teen mom and her ex and it gets crazy around here. But I thought I had them (for the most part) in a good space. I didn’t cry (at first) when they started in, at first I got mad. Really mad. Who the hell do they think they are talking to me like that, yelling at me and throwing their dad in my face? Telling me what he has and we don’t, comparing me to other people and telling me if they had their way they would be anywhere but here.

That was the proverbial straw and I was the camels back. I felt that familiar feeling in the back of my throat, my voice thickened and broke as I spoke and then the flood gates opened and there was no holding back the tears. I spent the rest of the day in my room, staring at nothing, hurt to my core and oh so broken. A couple of them came in and tried to apologize but I shushed them and motioned them out. The little one didn’t know which way to go. Mom was crying and he didn’t know who did it so they are all bad guys in his book.

Day has turned to night and I am still sitting here, in the dark, with a crying hangover and hurt feelings. My feelings are not hurt so much by what they said (partially, but not totally) but rather by the fact that the only outlet I have is here. I can’t call my sister, my best friend, anyone and tell them what happened and why I feel like I do because they doesn’t get it. It is just me, trying to juggle all the stuff thrown at me and not drop anything. And it is hard. And lonely. And thankless. And that sucks.

 

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