Mornings like this are my favorite. The first chill is in the air, not enough to be cold but just enough that my morning mug of coffee feels so content. This morning is fuzzy, last night was far more beer then was necessary . . . precipitating me having to delete last nights post on here. Sometimes drunk blogging is a bad thing.

Work yesterday almost killed me. Two new cases and one just hit home so much. Much as I love my work with the teen crowd, at times it triggers me more then I would like to admit. Sometimes when you read through the history and you see that it parallels your own, it gets tough. Particularly when you see the parents following the same . . . denial, blame, shame, not supporting the child because they are so hell bent on protecting their own selves, which, most likely were hurt as well. Of course, I get the new case at the end of a long week . . . then I realize one of our toughest cases I have been working on is somebody I know intimately. That hurt. It's one thing to help with an abstract idea . . . an unnamed child . . . a situation you don't truly know about and then once you hear who it is? Wow . .. . my legs began to tremble, I could feel the tears stinging my eyes. My throat felt like it was tightening. I wanted to break down in that moment but I held it off . . . not for long, but long enough. Leaving all that at work, thinking how thrilled I was for a long weekend, looking forward to some time with my family and my mother calls . . .

She is upset, in tears, needs me. Why does everybody need me? Where do I go when I need somebody? Thich Nhat Hahn, one of my all time favorite authors wrote one time that if a person is in therapy its a sure sign that nobody in their life is listening to them . . . good point. Maybe thats why I am becoming a therapist? I listen to everybody else . . .

So, I go to my moms, she went and saw the surgeon today. First of all this is insane. She hates this surgeon, his bedside manner is awful, but he is so very skilled. I trust him completely but I don't think he knows how mean he is. Well, mom went to see him without me (and admitted it was a huge mistake). He told her she needs complete knee replacement, some veins stripped and sealed, possibly another stint, maybe a few other things. Point was, she was an emotional mess. We worked through it . . . I limped my ass home thinking all I could handle was blues and beer.

And, so it was . . . I had a date with a botonist I recently met. Great guy. Love that he butchers his own chickens and has a huge garden, love that he knows every single plant God ever made and that his weekends are spent backpacking. I guess I didn't love it enough. I cancelled the date. I just wanted to be home, with my family, in my space . . .wanted to cry when i needed to cry, laugh when I needed to laugh and figure out what the hell I am doing in my life. The blues came on . . . the beer came out . . . the kids laughed, we chopped our garden veggies, sauteed our chicken, threw in liberal amounts of basil and olive oil . . . had dinner. Jake wanted to dance so he spun me around the living room floor to John Lee Hooker and BB King.

Then, of course. Bill happened. Thats when my evening crashed and anger hit. He is so good at knowing when my life is moving forward. He preys on my weak moments. Some how, somewhere, our psyches are connected. When he knows I am weak and exhausted, sick of fighting and all the stress . . . he can move in for the strike. Its a bitch. The evening crashed. My sadness and grief moved into anger. . .

BUT, this morning, its a new day. I feel amazing. I realized about 230 this morning that he has no power over me any longer. The strings have been cut. He can say whatever he wants, do whatever he wants. Call me names, accuse me of whatever. It doesn't matter. I'm not his, I don't belong to him. He never belonged to me. I may have pulled my heart out and handed it over on a silver platter but he kept his so carefully guarded under a fortress nobody could bust through. My heart is safe from him now. . . . over the last two years, I realized I have been rebuilding, one step at a time. I have begun healing and patching, piece after piece. I didn't realize it until a few hours ago. I won! I am still whole and intact. I will move on. I will have another love . . . I will be far more selective, pick one who is able to love me back and fully participate in a life together. I will never allow a man to treat me the way he did again. I feel like the spheres have been completed. I have learned what I needed to over the last six years of having a life so intertwined with his. Not one time have I ever allowed myself to truly consider moving past him. I could go to a certain place and I stalled. Usually by him and his presence. No longer. Not again. He is now my history and that . . .. feels . . . . Amazing . . . . .