Tomorrow is going to be tough.

I’m typing this looking at someone else’s hands doing it.

So much has come to me this week and I’m trying to prioritize it.

Trying to sort it out and there is a part of me saying “Just Breathe, it’s going to be ok.”

My mom.

Yeah.

My mom.

That’s what these things are that don’t make sense.

I️ hope that tomorrow I️ can find some kind of containment for it.

Seriously!!!

I’m going to be with her for Thanksgiving and there HAS to be some kind of containment.

Seriously!!

I️ can envision myself erupting and coming undone.

I️, myself, can’t handle that.

It feels like I’m on the cliff of really understanding and putting these pieces together and here I️ am.

Thanksgiving, last year, was when she gaslighted me in front of my family. It was so ? I️ don’t know the word for what it was.

A vacuum.

That’s what it was. A vacuum.

Yikes!!

Needy.

Whiny.

Weak.

Yep. That sounds like me right now.

It WILL get better. I️ have confidence that it will. I️ truly believe it will.

I’m rambling.

I️ DO believe though.

Can we contain this tomorrow?

I️ have a secret that makes my heart happy for next week, that you are closed.

No one knows and I️ can’t wait to be present in the moment.

I’ll share it with you tomorrow because you can’t tell anyone that would spoil it.

Thank you M!

I️ am getting stronger. I️ just feel a little small right now.