Hug Me or Some Shit
I'm an empath. This is an incredible blessing and a God-damn curse. I feel enough for me and you and the current population of China.
Last week I deployed my husband, saw my special needs son through surgery, said goodbye to my best friend as she moves away, readied and entertained 5 houseguests (while helping my son recover), and then said goodbye to another friend. And my mother fucking dishwasher broke, and I found out my kid's best friend is smoking pot and had to be a hard ass parent about it.
My husband's sadness and anxiousness at leaving and his excitement at the new job are palpable. I feel how much he hates missing out on our day to day, and the jealousy of fun with guests, and helplessness at being absent for my son and inability to help with trouble.
The friend's sadness at leaving and her excitement at starting over- and her limited ability to share it the way she normally would are tear-inducing.
The pain and confusion my son is going through cuts me to the core. My daughter's sadness about dad, worry about her brother, concern for me, and excitement about guests are a mini thunderstorm of emotion following me around.
I feel my houseguests frustration at how little they can help.
My dishwasher has no feelings, thank God.
The kid's bestfriend makes up for the dishwasher and had to be confronted and I HAAAAAAAATE that. Tears and teen angst.
And what I feel is somewhere in that stew of emotion. I've tried meditation to center myself and all that happy hippie crap, but the truth is that I would give my left kidney and my Mama's secret recipes to anybody who just hug me and let me cry. The problem is that no one counsels the counselor. No one hears the listener.
So, I write this shit so I don't lose my shit. And thanks for reading this shit.