Trauma

 So it goes.  I'm finally straightening myself out after decades of trying to vanish or otherwise make myself as small or take up as little space as possible. I've spent a life time trying to make myself invisible, except that someone like me doesn't have that capacity (and yeah, I just figured that out).

It seems FOO realizes what I'm up to and doesn't know how to deal with it. Predictably, heads are going into the sand if not up asses, but neither of these things is my problem. I have bigger issues, like dragging elder kicking and screaming into adulthood and making sure younger is keeping up with his studies.  Although all things being equal, younger has second honors despite his challenging course load.

I need to reconsider what next year will look like for him. He and I need a sit down. 

Part of elder's problem is trauma, and another part autism, and another part the insanity COVD has wreaked on his life that up until 18 months ago was going full steam ahead. Everything screeched to a halt and began to slide backwards. I'm not sure we're done the backslide, yet. 

Meanwhile, younger, always in elder's shade, is growing in his own right and creating his own shade.  Some of which he throws at random. I'm including both kids in my conversations about my own hard work of making myself whole. This means throwing light into a lot of dark and dirty corners. And now that they are both adults, they can make their own minds up about what to do with what I share. 

There's a lot I don't share. I don't think they can handle it. 

There's a lot I talk to R about. I'll have more things to share with him this week. I spend a lot of time sitting with grief. This is necessary; I ignored her for too long, and at my peril. Attention must be paid if I am ever going to heal. 

But this also means putting people on ignore. Also necessary and part of the healing process. I don't know that there will ever be a time I can re-engage. I'm thinking never sounds okay. And I know how sad that sounds. But everything now is measured by what I can handle. I've been strong a long time, which is a trauma response. Allowing myself to crumble and break is a careful dance of timing.  In keeping myself whole in the face of other people's sledgehammers, I've managed to wall up all kinds of crap. I need to break so I can let it all out. 

My kids need me whole. And I need to raze myself to the ground so I can rebuild. 

It's not too late. I've been working on this a long time. But I'm finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel.