I don’t know what it is about me, maybe the fact that I had children so young so was thrust into the nurturing role early.
That when I was 14 I was a surrogate mother to a little girl whose mother dropped her at our door when she was a few weeks old and disappeared for half a year.
That I tend to mother those that need a little support.
It is like I give off a scent.
People come to me with their problems.
Just to vent.
But mainly just for a friendly ear.
And normally I am totally fine with that.
Normally I relish the distraction and want to help you, support you, be there for you.
But right now, in this moment when The Big Bad Thing looms large in my mind (and those of you that are new biatches, I have never disclosed what TBBT is just how it has destroyed me. TBBT is not my story to tell) I am tired and overwhelmed, Boo’s future seems to be another fight I have to endure again and a million other insignificant things rolled together that tower over me like stuff of nightmares, I cannot be there for you.
I just can’t.
That doesn’t mean tomorrow I won’t.
That doesn’t mean I don’t care.
That doesn’t mean you have to walk away.
It just means that right now, in this moment, there is a No Vacancy sign.
I need to go and clean something or paint something or just crawl into that corner over there to gain my strength again.
Strength to slay those motherfucking dragons.