It’s Tuesday afternoon and I haven’t posted anything in a few days. There is something rolling around my head with a lot of noise and I don’t know how to write about it. I had a falling out with a friend a few weeks ago.
I bugged her, she bugged me. There’s really nothing much to say about the details. The specifics aren’t so different from the last time we did this. I whine, she bites my head off and we don’t talk for a while. So what. Same crap, different day.
Unfortunately, what has happened in the wake of it this time is that I have censored myself. My blog has suffered because I am uncertain about this one member of my audience.
Maybe I am wrong, but I suspect that my friend is still reading my posts. Truly, I cannot imagine why. She says that I drag her down and that I should call on someone else when I need a friend.
I’m happy to comply with that request because, honestly, she drags me down too. I think we have become toxic to one another again. It‘s not the first time and it won’t be the last. The two of us share a long and complicated history.
I am committing this to my blog today because I want it behind me. I’m not putting any thought into repairing the friendship or trying to make it something it isn’t. I am just leaving it here to get it out of the way.
This blog is a place for me to offload some grief and anxiety from my life. It is also a place for me to share what happens on a typical day in house with an autistic child, a dad on the spectrum and a mom who leans toward chaos. Writing for all of you is therapeutic for me. That’s why I felt the need to share all of this.
Despite whatever impression I’ve left with my friend, I want everyone to know that I love my life. With all its challenges, its lack of order and sometimes hourly disappointments, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love my son and I love my husband. What we share together is good.
I am a good wife and a good mother. I know this and I am proud of it. Maybe it’s my own fault for failing to repeat this aloud often enough, but I don’t think my friend has ever embraced these simple facts. I don’t think she has ever believed that my life is less than a train wreck in need of intensive repair. I can’t care about that anymore.
It’s almost five o’clock and other matters are more pressing.
Thanks for sticking with me as I find my way back to regular writing. I appreciate it. I really do.