It's not yet 10 am and Ima Yelling into the Void

SO where does one start, when things seem to be falling apart?

I say seem, because I know they are not, but my capacity to withstand insanity, other's and my own, is diminished as I age. This week drained me to the point that it's not yet 10 am and I kicked the bottle of anniversary riesling we started last night over dinner.

Elder yells at me over the phone about the injustices and wrong the world had done him. While I don't disagree, there are ways to handle the divergent paths that life takes you, and his first response is to kick, scream, and bury himself.

I talk, then shout, then scream over him to be heard. But his own hurt, offense and whatever else he's got going on drives him to shout me down, drown me out, and no matter what sense I have to divulge, he will have none of it.

I eventually need to hang up or lose my mind. And then text "I'm done." I've spoken my piece and counted to three.

And he yells back to stop wasting his battery. I recognize this need to have the last word.

And I allow it. Because I have nothing left to offer.

I shoveled through the ashes of my own past this morning, again, always, trying to figure out what I could have, should have, would have, done differently, and arrive again at the conclusion that I DID do everything I could have done, despite what my gaslighters would have me believe.

My entire life now revolves around meeting the needs of the others in my life. I feel guilty when I grab time for myself, but acknowledge that I can't pour from an empty cup. I do what I can and acknowledge that those who depend on me argue they don't get enough. Well, only one will vocalize it, one will think it, and the other will be thinking of other things.

I'm doing what I can. Some days, it's more, and it looks different, and other days, it's a lick and a promise.

Although one of these days, that promise will go unfulfilled. And I am increasingly aware of that fact.