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General housekeeping for those of you following along.  J is still in rehab and committed to staying there until released sometime later this week.  He revealed in the counselling session that he is going back to the mother’s home and is going to “make it up” to everyone.  So, he’s going to leave rehab and go back to the most dangerous place for him to go.  Awesome.  But, as of right now, he is very committed to getting better, so we’ll take what we can get.

But, that’s not what this post is about.

This post is about the reason that I was asked NOT to come to the counseling session and the issue about me that was going to be discussed at that session.  When hubby came back from the counseling session, he said that there was nothing.  J was not angry with me or anything and I brushed off what had been said as the mother trying to hurt my feelings.

Except that was not was was happening.  J was just not willing to talk about the issue in counseling.  But A told hubby while everyone was out smoking the night after the counselling session.  And hubby didn’t tell me until I started verbally wondering why the mother would make up shit just to hurt me.  I don’t like her, but that’s low, even for her.

It turns out, that I help too much.  I forget the actual word used (and I want to find that out from hubby later, but for now….) but it was along the lines of annoying, overbearing, obnoxious.  Because I help too much.

I don’t even know what to do with that except be unreservedly sad.  My one strength that I still acknowledge, the thing that I hold onto tightly to prove I’m a useful person deserving of the oxygen that I take up, is my ability to help people.

I still don’t even have words to help me describe how I feel right now.  The wind is out of my sails.  It feels like the full brunt of this complaint, still hasn’t hit me.  It kind of feels like I’m getting kicked in the chest in slow motion and I’m still waiting for it to be over.

I forgot what it was like to be this sad.

 

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