Today I’m grateful for feeling…

triggered, helpless, and panicked at work. We had a big summer event and I was working the board game room. This huge group of kids come in, being yelled at by this super scabby old man, trailed by an acidic looking woman. I end up playing Clue with three of them and I loved it, one was very sweet and another was whip sharp for his age (age 8?) and understood the game faster than I did. The sweet girl (age 12?) couldn’t read. They were all clearly fosters and it felt just as obvious that Mom was not taking care of them. The scabby guy was the uncle and the girl literally shifted away when he’d come near the table, she seemed like she couldn’t look at him. Maybe I’m seeing witches where there are none, but I felt so strongly that some of these kids were in my boat. I don’t get this feeling for every kid, the pit in my stomach, the alarm bells. And I couldn’t do a single fucking thing. I’m not used to kids but I did my best to make the game a fun experience for them. I felt so fucking helpless, utterly useless. I sobbed all the way home. How can I learn to deal with this better? How can I see kids suffering and do nothing? WHAT CAN I DO?? And that uncle reminded me so much of my dad, what he must have looked like to people. I wanted to puke.

Soothed in my meeting, if not still very unsettled. I normally stick to the prompt provided but felt I had to share this with them instead. By the end of my three minutes I had half the group sobbing with me, and it was powerful to be witnessed and feel the collective grief of survivors of that same crime. The way the groups function is a wonder because, instead of bringing everybody down, openness like this draws each member closer to themselves and everyone else. The shares get deeper, the group feels more heard, more fulfilled. It didn’t change a thing for those children. But it felt like the smallest of consolations, that all the pain could become something communal and significant to 10 people’s healing processes. 

okay until Cubu got in the car and I shut down, immediately taciturn. It’s always like this and I feel awful about it, but can’t seem to find whatever trick is required to not have this happen. If I’m avoiding an emotion, even if I don’t realize it, even if I think I’ve already processed it or meditated through it, I’ll know the instant Cubu gets in the car whether or not there’s something lurking because I go into full cactus-mode. He’s very good by now of not taking it personally, of knowing I’m dealing with something and being very gentle. I don’t want him to have to treat me like a bomb. Something about him being with me makes those emotions unavoidable, because I know I should share them with someone who can comfort me but that goes strongly against my grain. 

longing and loss. The only person I wanted to share Trump’s news with was Ludvig. I can hear how it would go in my head: how big his smile would be, how infectious his glee, and how punchy his quips. To hear him say his nickname for me again, or see the way his eyes crinkle, the single brow raise, the sly grin. What I would give to see him whole. 

Feelin’ good…

• on my glass drop off, I got a couple hours to listen to my newest audiobook that I can’t put down. It just flows very well. I had intended to sing it out but singing normally makes me cry, and if I started crying on that drive I simply would not be able to stop. 
• about strengthening my relationship with my glass guy. We used to sit and chat a lot during glass drops but the past half year I’ve been more efficient about it. I had the time today, and he seemed like he wanted to connect, so I sat for an hour and reestablished some of our bond. It felt good to take time with him for a bit.
• I’m excited to have figured out that unprocessed emotions are causing my cactus-mode when C gets in the car. Until that entry, I hadn’t known what my problem was. It’s been years of this behavior. I (and my therapist) has been assuming I had some issue with C because that seemed to be the only/most obvious cause at the time. But writing that out, it felt like it came from my heart and I know it to be true. I’m grateful to have found that thread, to have a direction for my healing.
• celebrating Trump’s verdict with some coworkers. It wasn’t anything big, it felt subdued even. All of us are worried it won’t make the difference it needs to. But still.