I don’t know how to start this post other than to say that stressing = regressing and yucky on the inside = yucky on the outside. Starting with the latter, I have never heard someone visited by the flu proclaim beauty, or even livelihood. Many times when I do something I know I shouldn’t have, or do something I thought was okay but later figured out it wasn’t, my body goes into “flu” mode. I am told this is common but many times feel that I handle it much less gracefully than those around me. The past week and a half have been somewhat of a “flu”, almost “pneumonia”, week for me. I’ve done a few things against my better judgement and because of it I have been full of negativity, hate, anger, bitterness, and near deceit. Last week Zhanna and I drove to the next town and met my bio aunt (mom’s sister) for lunch. Though I knew it was not a good idea I felt that it needed to be done. I haven’t seen my bio family in years and felt that I owed her a few hours of my time. As soon as Zhanna and I walked into the restaurant my aunt started jumping up and down like a 12-year-old–mind you she is in her 40’s–and was being obnoxiously loud, this should have been my first sign to turn around and walk away, instead I rushed to the nearest bathroom, leaving Zhanna on her own with my aunt. As soon as we sat down for our meal my aunt delved into the happenings of all the members of my family, starting with Cooper and his status in Afghan. She then started talking about Declan and his recent visit, how Nana had purchased a ticket for him, and how much he spoils everyone with his charm, humor and money when he does visit. Lastly, she moved on to my mom and informed me of all the accomplishments she has mad, like holding a job at the local wal*mart, and how well she’s taking care of Skie and my sisters. In an attempt to stop her I pretended that a co-worker had texted me to let me know I left my Ip0d at work…and said something about hoping she didn’t update my f@ceb0ok status. (yes, that’s how my co-workers and I roll) She thought she’d check and blurted out, “nope I couldn’t find anything under Ruby Teivel. Trying to hold back my lividness, I responded, “yeah, because that’s not my last name. My last name is Mae. Again, at this moment, I should have stood up and walked out…but I didn’t. Instead, we went to the clothing store and I spent $40 on her grand baby, a baby I will never meet, because I didn’t have the capacity to tell her no, and I was so far into overwhelm I could barely remember the date. I knew going into this that it was a bad idea. I knew that I would be bombarded with the idea that my family is a functional, happy family and that my mom is on her feet and doing miraculously well. I didn’t, however, know that it would trigger me so badly. The biggest mistake and the biggest cause for my icky-yucky-big feelings this week though was talking to my mom. The night that Skie was in labor my mom commented on something to a friend of mine; because of my fear of abandoning and forgetting her, from weeks ago, I decided that I NEEDED to talk to her. I emailed her and said hi to her and to my surprise she said hi back. In that instant I was struck with an overwhelming amount of anger and frustration, but I continued to talk. I asked her how she is doing and what she has been up to. She asked how I was doing and if I am in school. She asked to see my art and I obliged…and that was it, that was the end of our conversation. I haven’t spoken to her since then, nor has she spoken to me. The truth is, I don’t want to. I didn’t leave that conversation light-heartedly, instead I walked away shaking my head at the corruption she is still trying to fill my head with, the lies she is telling herself to allow herself to be okay, and that I am still just an object in her game. I closed the lid of my computer hoping that maybe an ambulance would hit her on her way out of the hospital. I crawled into bed thinking how bad it would be if she found me. I closed my eyes hoping that it was all a dream. That one hour conversation was enough to make me feel anger deeper than I have ever felt before, fear stronger than I have felt in years, and overwhelm greater than any mountain I’ve ever faced. I woke up only hours later feeling ill and extremely tired, like I had been hit by a truck. I quickly emailed Becca and let her know, but she wasn’t available. She asked if I was okay, but that’s as deep as she could go. And as much as I wanted to tell Bailey, I didn’t and still haven’t. I want to because I need help understanding and straightening it all out in my head, but I can’t. I know that it was a mistake and I don’t want to be told by someone else it was a mistake. I don’t think Bailey will tell me that, but because of past happenings a greater fear inside of me tells me she will. So, instead, I’ve locked it all inside. I’ve become ill, making me unpleasant to be around because when I am ill my anger shows vividly, and have regressed drastically. The stress of needing to hold it all in and have the fallout bubble inside has made me do things I haven’t done in months, it’s made me regress back to near toddler/infancy-hood. Embarrassing. The night after talking to my mom I slept worse than usual, my dreams were 10 x’s worse than they had been, and woke up to an accident. This to me becomes very upsetting because even though I understand the biology and psychology behind it, I can’t control it and I end up wetting the bed like a 2-year-old. It’s gross. It’s embarrassing. Because of the embarrassment and shame coming from these incidents I became more ill and less fun to be around. Thankfully, I have a best friend who understands and who doesn’t mind meeting me where I am, most of the time. Luckily, she too likes to play with Barbie’s and playdoh. I’m hoping by the end of this week to talk to Bailey about my mom because this morning I woke up ill and madder than a lion with a thorn in his paw. I’m going to bed feeling about the same. So here’s to you…. Yucky innards = yucky outards = stress = regression.