I've been bawling about being homeless for the last few weeks, and while it's true that I don't have my own home, I'm not homeless. M says we are "Ownless". We have a home, we just don't have one of our own. Big difference, and IF I can start seeing the differences, I can start the long uphill climb.
Eric is surviving in that place that he shouldn't be in. I still shy away in saner moments of saying where he is. Jail. Jail, Jail. nope, repeating it doesn't help. But there he sits. He has been able to get out and do community service, which means that instead of working his butt off for any living, he's doing it simply to be doing it. He worries about supporting us, but for now, that's my responsibility. That thought scares the crap outta me.
My sister reminded me that while I've lived alone before, and supported my kids, I haven't had to after being beaten down so badly. I know that I can find the strength, and as soon as I allow my self to heal from the torture my soul has endured, I'll be okay. I needed to hear that. I feel so weak, I feel like I should be standing on my own two feet taking care of business. But right now, I can't. She helped me realize something, that just like a physical beating that has to heal before you function normally again, I've taking an emotional and spiritual beating the likes of which all most killed me. I need to heal.

I'll have my good days, and they will be more than the bad. I will make the strides to heal and be the strong person people keep accusing me of being. But it will take time, and today, I can see that. Tomorrow who knows. I have angels hiding as friends that keep reminding me that it's okay to take time to heal. That I don't have to know where I'm going yet, because right now, I'm home. And for now, I know that that is the Lord's hand in this. His angels on earth helping my family until I can take over. So for today, I will start to heal, and quit doing things that make that process harder.