Life As We Know It...

Is over.

We are going to lose our house. And there isn't a *!@#% thing I can do about it. What do you do when your parents tell you that your only option is to start over somewhere else? To give up everything and leave home? Where do you go with that emotionally?

You find an uncluttered corner in your mind, crawl over to it, plop down, and cover your head with the darkest, thickest blanket you can find. You become numb and cold, and just hope that when it's all over you can wake up again.

That's kind of how I feel. You know I haven't cried a single tear over it? How is that possible? I have no idea. I'm the only one in my family who hasn't cried about it all. And I'm a passionate person. It's like it's all buried too deep inside of me and I can't really get it out. I might not be able to handle it if I could.

I'm like Elanor in Sense and Sensibility, sitting on the stairway drinking my cup of tea while the world tumbles down around my ears. I see it happening. I hear it coming. But I can't do anything about it. So I sit and wait, seemingly calm, but struggling to escape despair's grasping claws.

I want to cry and scream and throw things against the wall. I want to do something outrageously emotional. Anything to release the internal pressure. But I'm too tired and weary. And what would be the point anyway? Better just to sit quietly with my cup of tea.

I wish I could escape.

I don't want to think. I can't think. Thinking isn't helping right now.

Grannie took us to the library yesterday and I got a ton of books. At least I can hide in the engaging story lines for awhile. Pretend what's going on around me doesn't exist.