The Day After
There was an apocalyptic movie named The Day After, and somehow that feels apropos. I want everyone to know I am okay. Relatively. Auntie Depression has come for a visit. I am overwhelmingly sad every time I see the littlest thing that reminds me of B. I pull in the garage, her bike is there, I open the pantry, that stupid ramen noodle soup she thinks is more than adequate nutrition for a growing girl is there. A sentence you never thought you'd utter: Ramen noodle soup made me cry.
And then I brought Snickers, the kitten I rescued three weeks ago, to Brother Wolf so she could be properly fostered and then adopted. So that was a heart ache on top of what I am already feeling. I keep wandering the house aimlessly, as if my body knows it's supposed to be doing something: Making dinner, playing Connect Four, riding her ass to take a bath...but there's no B here and no longer a need to do all of that.
I don't even know if she made it home. I have to assume she did. No one called me and there's no way of calling there. I took B's phone away because if she can Skype with her mother while she's here then she can damn well Skype with me while she's there. I'm not going to pay for a phone for all of them to use. Like I said, this gravy train has come to a full and complete stop.
I sent a letter home with B, suggesting to her mom the things I felt were urgently needed in order to see B was cared for, and explaining why I sent her home and wouldn't be bringing her back any time soon. I've not gotten a response and I won't be surprised if I don't get one. Why should she let me talk to her kid if she's not going to get anything out of it any more? I guess I feel like I'm never going to see B again.
I'm catching a little flack for 'oversharing' my personal life on the internet. That it's somehow going to hurt my career. Well. Gee. Okay. And welcome to the land of I don't give a flying fuck. I write. I write pretty damn good too. You should buy me based on that. If you don't want to know what I'm like as a person, don't follow my blogs. Don't trail my personal account on Facebook. It's your finger doing the clicking on that mouse, not mine.
For those who do follow me, you know I'm usually a pretty happy, ebullient person. I share the good and the bad, the professional and the personal. I share it all because clearly you want to hear it. And I share it because on days like yesterday, your support rolls in and surrounds me, comforts me like a great big hug, buoys me up when I think I am going to shatter into pieces. I wish I could return the favor to all of you. It's special. It's precious. It means the world to me.
Thanks guys.
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
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