The dinner dishes are done, for the most part. Coffee is programed to be ready when we wake up. It's the end of a productive weekend, and I have a brisk schedule set out for the week ahead.
So far, I am managing to parent and wife, fold the laundry and do the shopping, keep moving and smile...but it's a near thing. Every moment I feel in danger of caving in on myself.
At church this morning, a friendly stranger greeted me with an overly intent "Tell me how you are doing!" And I did. The poor gal blinked for a moment before groping for something suitable to say. Her question was phrased in such a way that I couldn't find the word "fine," so I went with the next best thing: The Truth.
My son has vanished without a trace, and I don't know where to look for him. He's an addict who is using copious amounts of drugs, so he's truly in mortal danger. He is gone, and when he is found he will be locked up for a very long time. He's gone. He's 17.
*********************
When I first discovered Don was missing, Michael came over to be with me. He's funny, my Michael. Michael said something that made me laugh in a sudden, unexpected way. I burst into hysterical laughter and hysterical heaving sobs at exactly the same time. Michael stood there gaping at me, and asked "what are you Doing?" I had a very hard time making myself stop.
That was Friday. Also on Friday, my daughter got her driver's license. We celebrated the accomplishment, then I filed a police report and tried to search for Don. It was like my whole self was laughing and sobbing just in the act of moving from dawn 'til dusk. It was exhausting.
Saturday was the same sort of bifurcated intellect and emotion. Being present for my kids and my husband while trying to keep the fog from drowning me was a lot of work. I drank an entire bottle of wine, which did seem to lighten my mood briefly. I went to church this morning with a mildly guilty conscience and a headache, which did nothing to distract me from the issue at hand.
Is it grief?
I don't want to talk to anyone. Being nice to those within my four walls is taking all the energy allotted to me. I have nothing to give them, yet their needs of me have not diminished. So I smile real big and hold on tight to keep the panic from surfacing.
Collapsing won't help.
For-Pete's-sake, you'd think I'd be used to this stuff by now.
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