Waiting to say hello | storiesfromtheheart's Blog

I hugged my daughter tight this morning, as I said good bye to her. She is off to spend a week of peace and quiet with her father and step mother. Their house is not as busy and chaotic as mine. Where kids come and go, yell and laugh, stomp and run. She said she just needed to be somewhere quiet; she needed some time for peace around her.   She had originally wanted to go to the mental health unit two hours away from my house; I didn’t like that idea so instead I sent her 14 hours away to her dad. That makes sense.  She seemed happy enough to go; we had packed her bag together, making sure all her favourite clothes were in there. The things she always wears because they make her feel safe, comfortable and secure. He was supposed to let me know when she was safely at his house, he didn’t. That’s typical for him.  I finally contact him and check, I do not want to look like some over protective controlling mother, but I had to know she was okay.

Now I can’t seem to settle, my husband is away for a week, my fragile child is away, and I am not sure how to cope. I reassure myself she is safe, they will watch her; lord knows the list I wrote on what to do could be used to wall paper their kitchen. I think maybe I am going a little insane.

I had hoped that I would relax even just for a moment, while she is in the care of her father. But what I have found is I have swapped one form of worry for another.  Instead of worrying about how we will get through each day, now I worry about will she come home to me next week?

I can see a rocky week ahead for me, it’s so hard to concentrate, I have a 3000 word assignment due in four days and I have written 20 words so far.  The metaphoric shit has hit the fan at work, and still I have no care for how they will clean it all up. All I care about is next week, when my world goes back to the usual sort of fear and worry that has become  a normal way to feel, and not this new kind, which I just can’t deal with.