Today I am venting.  I hate drama and yesterday my husband said I was the drama causer of the family.  Actually what he really said is I ADD to the drama.  

I am trying to sort my thoughts out because I don't even want to talk to him right now.  He is supposed to have my back right?  Well.....In my blended family I have 2 step sisters that snap at each other like 2 little old ladies. This makes my mom tense and everyone else around them frustrated.  Over our 25 years together, John has decided he doesn't even want to be around them. 
For whatever reason, I seem to be the scapegoat for people to talk about. When our families were smaller, we would all stay at my mom's for Christmas.  Now that the kids are bigger, my immediate family has been staying at my sister's house 10 minutes away.  You would think this would help lessening the group volume in the house, but apparently, it has made things worse.  
When we depart on Christmas night, apparently there are hard feelings which is so stupid because we are just going back to Erin's to sleep. NOT tie one on with a raging leave everyone out party.  
Last year I had enough, so I had our family stay at my mom's for the entire time and guess what, the only drama that happened was the yearly "feel sorry for me cry fest" my sister Michele has every year.  It is like she realizes how miserable she is when she is with all of us and we don't give her enough attention, so she has to cry and whine about how miserable she is causing us all to be miserable.  Last year I totally ignored her.  TOTALLY.  
Because we stayed at mom's there was no drama from our family because we didn't give the other sister's anything to talk about. 
Well, John made it very clear to me the other day that he doesn't want to stay at my mom's and I add to the drama.  BUT.........  I add to the drama when I leave, I add to the drama when I stay, I just can't win in this stupid fucking drama department. 

I just don't know what to do.  I am hoping writing this will bring me some clarity.  If I tell mom we are not staying because the sisters act like old hens, then she feels bad because she really wants me to stay. If I don't stay and don't offer any reason, than the hens have a major case of FOMO (fear of missing out for all you who don't know what that means :) ).  If we stay then my husband is miserable causing me to have mixed feelings in my chest and heart and now allowing me to fully enjoy myself because I have to watch what I say, what I do, EVERYTHING, because now I know he thinks I add to the drama... 

I don't know what the answer is. I really don't. My head at the moment is saying to call Amy and let her know my concerns, but as much as she thinks she is a secret keeper, she is not.  It gets out someone giving reason to gossip in the chicken coop.  My mom wants me to be home.  She likes my help and she likes the neutralness that I contribute, and she likes my company.  I want to be with my mom.   There.  I just got the answer. I want to be with my mom. Especially after losing my dad this past year, I really realize I want to be around her as much as possible at the holidays and If that causes problems with my husband, then actually he can 100% fuck off.  Seriously, I really do love him and he is awesome, but seriously.  The pain I feel in my head and my heart is almost unbearable at times and he doesn't see to get it.  

That is all I have for today.  

When I first read the definition, my mind read "disturbed" instead of distributed.  Ha.  I feel like disturbed is more appropriate.  It is how I have been feeling and I can't put it into vocalization to other people in a way that makes sense, or in a way people can offer me proper advice. Believe me, I have tried. The only thing I can say to people is I am in a strange "head space" right now, but honestly, I don't know how to describe it.  

I know I should quit saying it is because of the emotional build up of losing my Dad., but honestly, it is.  I find myself in a funk so many times.  I see him driving cars when I am out running errands.  I even saw a bumper sticker that said "rand" on my way home from dropping the kids at school.  Rand.  That was Kerry's nickname for my dad.  I honestly miss my Stepmom, Kerry often times just as much.  I know Kerry knows that from Heaven.  I know. She shows up every once in awhile to let me know she is here and watching.  I just wish she would show up a bit more. Maybe even bring my dad along.  

With my brother being in his unstable place, and sister just having her first baby, I know their attention is diverted and they are protecting and watching when they can.  I just honestly want them in my kitchen drinking coffee, or maybe even a Gin and Tonic (if it is happy hour time, although, Kerry's happy hour started a wee bit before most people's).  

So why "Thistle"?  
Yesterday when I was on a walk with the dogs we took a different path.  They are building a new apartment complex near my house and Jackson is very confused as to where the path through the woods went. He tries to lead me through the construction site every time we go in that direction. It is like he is experiencing a bit of loss and if he revisits it enough times, what he is missing will return.  Wow. Can I relate to that or what??  

Well, the woods are gone, and the remnants of a path are unsafe to walk on, so I chose to walk him around the grassy area that surrounds the construction site.  

It was 45 degrees and beautiful, but the wind was a little nippy and wimpy psycho sausage, Lily really wanted to go home.  She is all sweet and simple, but her anxiety is another book I should really write.  

I noticed Jackson sitting down and licking his paw.  He never does that on walks unless there is something stuck in there.  I tried to feel for something and couldn't so I encouraged him to continue walking.  When he sat again, I knew we should turn back so I could do some digging in the warmth of the house.  Since he was walking okay, I did not feel the need to carry his fluffy 14 lb butt the last mile.  On our way home, Jack stopped at least 4 more times frantically licking his paw.  He is very ticklish and when I tried to help, he would kick and pull it away.  Again, he seemed to be walking fine in between his lick stops, so we continued on our way.  

When we returned home, my driving duties with the kids resumed and I myself got a little "squirreled" on Jackson's paw issue.  It wasn't until I was home later in the evening that I sat down to give him his good daily rub.  To my complete heartbreak, he was COVERED in thistles all over his belly.  I knew that is what I would find if I searched in between the long hair of his toes and dug in the pads.  These thistles  were small and very prickly. 

I sat on the floor and picked out all the belly ones and then moved onto the paw. His left paw was fine, still ticklish, but fine.  Then I felt it. There it was. Deep inside the soft pads of his right back paw.  The poor guy had walked that last mile with this "disturbed" daisy thistle poking him.  It took the help of my boy Quinn, to hold him down so I could pick it out.  When I removed it, I let him smell it.  He likes to smell everything I pull from his fur even if it is a matted chunk of his own brown softness. It kind of reminds me of when a kid has to watch the toilet flush to see what the heck just dropped out of their little body.  "Good bye gross poop".  Anyway, Jackson was now free of the thorny little disturbed part of the sweet and happy daisy flower.  He snuggled up in his bed with my new soft blanket, and went back to doggie dreamland. 

So back to the "Rand".  As soon as I saw that bumper sticker, I realized I needed to write about Jackson today.  First of all, the daisy is my favorite flower.  FAVORITE.  They are happy, beautiful, and when planted in your garden, they are stubborn and will continue growing (no matter how much you try and "weed them down", shining their beautiful faces towards the sun and to anyone who will look at them, (actually how I see myself a lot of the time). However, underneath one of the species of the daisy lies this little sticky thistle that hides inside, poking and hurting when you don't expect it, but also allowing you to continue "walking like normal" in front of those who don't know the internal pain you really may be feeling.  Sound familiar?  

Once again Jackson showed me something on our walk. He showed me that he can pick his paws up and continue moving forward one step at a time. He showed me that it is okay to stop and "lick your wound".  He showed me that every time he licked his wound he would feel better for a little bit, until the walking forward became difficult and a little painful and he needed to stop and take a rest, lick, and then keep moving.  

On our thistle walk, Jackson taught me that it is okay for me to have good days and bad days.  It is okay for me to walk in front of people not showing the pain I really feel, and allowing myself to stop and be vulnerable in front of those who know and love me. I am still learning that the "rest and lick" times will still come and that they will be less and less over time.  However, if I don't acknowledge when the pain and sadness are there, then that little thistle will dig itself in deeper and deeper until it makes my feet more difficult to step one in front of the other.

If only life were as simple as my long haired wiener dog's life.  Have your "Mama" pick the thistle out and then go run and chase more squirrels.  My thistle is still there poking at me.  Some days more than others, but from the lesson I just learned from Jackson, I will keep putting one foot in front of the other until the thistle stops poking so hard.  Thanks Jack.  You are truly my brown haired little buddy. 

Apparently there are a few drafts that are blank.  I did not know that every time I open a "new post" box and then fail to write anything, it saves as a draft.  Just goes to show how I have not been in a writing "mood" lately.

I know I need to begin again.  I know I need writing to cleanse my soul and heal from the inner pain I cannot seem to stop.  I can put band aids on it; reading books, going for a walk, drinking wine, but it is always still there.

I cannot stop this pain I feel for the loss of my dad.  Man, I miss him EVERYDAY!!!  I do have a little journal I have written in since his passing, but even that has been collecting dust lately.

Now it is Brother Zach.  A part of my soul is missing and I feel it everyday.  The stars aligned on the day Zach was born, bringing him into the same place in the galaxy where my soul resides.  We share something special and that bond was tarnished in June when Claire and I had to put him into Detox.  He gave us no choice.  We were terrified for his safety and were hoping someone would just help him.

I am coming to realize that there may not be anyone who can help him. Actually, I know the only person who can help Zach is himself. He is on a road to hitting rock bottom and I pray to GOD, when he hits, he will still be alive.  I can't imagine my life without my brother in it. It is funny I can even say that considering he has not had normal contact with me since June.  I should be used to this by now, but I am not.  I am NOT at all.  Even if we didn't talk weekly, we still connected through social media.  We both knew the other was there.  Now he doesn't even respond.

I had a dream last week. Zach was clean. I know that sounds funny, but his hair was clean, blond and shiny, his skin looked great, and his beard was trimmed.  He looked angelic and really peaceful.  It actually scared me.  I woke up thinking he had died.

Seriously.  I need my brother to heal.  He has so many people in his life and it terrifies me that he is shutting us all out.