Drained

Going home to seattle, to see my family, has a way of completely ripping my heart out of my chest. Yet at the same time, it takes it and places it amongst the things I love and reflects back to me why I keep coming back. But regardless of the nostalgia and love, especially in connection to a celebration of one of the brightest of the Jesse folk, it is utterly draining to experience (even for only two full days) how immensely not ok my family is. The emotional chaos involved in being the most mature and patient person is only outdone by having to be the parent to my childlike mother. To see the ways in which she self medicates, self destructs, and lets the rage and self pity take over her psyche, all in blatant view of my baby sister, breaks my heart a thouseand times over. I really thought we had made more progress than this. I really thought that she was maybe turning the corner. But apparently I have been fooling myself. So much of it is not because of my father, and not because of the divorce, but because of her. And as she stomped into her room and slammed the door, acting younger than the child she was fighting with, I flashbacked to my highschool experience and was reminded of the reality that the worst is yet to come.


ps: sorry this is so dark, I guess I'm just keeping it real.


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