The action is over, the rushing, yelling. Now there is the waiting, the thinking, the God awful feeling. There is the planning, the moving of stuff to make way for our stuff. The empty silences, the conversation of nothing else but this. They were my reason to get out of bed but this morning I wanted to forget that. My brain can't process this reality. Small motions are difficult.
Called for therapy, for me, for Mateo. The one therapist for Mateo is no longer seeing young children, or accepting insurance. I'll wait for my potential therapist to see if she'll see him, if not I'll call Support again.
It seems so hopeless. I pray he is more addict than narcissist. Everything I've read says that narcissism is hopeless.
Oh God, soften his heart. Transform him. Give him empathy, Lord. Nothing is impossible for you. Nothing is impossible for you. Nothing is impossible for you....
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