For once, drama is happening to everyone else.
On my lone island of care and worry, I am... duh, alone. I have my own set of hooplah that makes me want to crawl back into bed and ignore the world. Mainly lame stuff like missing The Hubsters. I'd whine about it, but military wives everywhere would seethe with hatred at my woosiness. The majority of my day is filled with finding something to do. The boredom is killing me, BUT (knock on wood) I am thinking this is not a bad state to be in and I wouldn't mind staying this way for maybe a day or two longer.
I was filling out some insurance information this morning and gave pause over a question. It was a simple yes/no deal wanting to know if I had any mental issues I had been hospitalized for, needed psychological sanatorium respite, or had been forcibly admitted to a mental care facility. *insert derisive snort HERE*
I do not mock those with mental infirmities. I'd like to join them. This week has been filled with insanity. All around me, those I love and care for have been struggling through monumental difficulties from family drama to death of a loved one. While I open my ears and my heart to them, I also opened so much more. I feel your pain. I've had the rug ripped out from under me. I've had the worst news get delivered by phone. And I know what it's like to be trod on, dissed and insulted. I'd love to take away the hurt and feel it for them and come to think of it, I do. Which explains why I had my own cry session last night over a carton of ice cream and bag of Doritos.
The literal winds of turmoil have been boiling around those I am close to. For once, it's not my drama, but it has become my drama. Why? Because I love too deeply to shut it out.
Hang in there. I wont let anyone in bleached white uniforms take you away. At least at my house, if you go crazy, I feed you tea and cinnamon rolls. Straight jacket is optional.