Confused Much

None of this is my fault. I didn't do it. Today was a good day, until I had to speak to my mother. Her words are icy, but then again, they typically are. Why do I let thirty seconds of child like conversation affect me? I suppose when the woman who raised you, who cared for you and loved you to life, hates you, you'll be affected. 

I don't like being confused. I don't like being in the dark, and not knowing the answers to a thousand pressing questions. If there is one thing that Autism has taught me, it's to expect the unexpected, but this? THIS is ridiculous. I'm raising her children because she has a drug problem, and that makes me the bad guy. That makes me the bad guy? How did that happen? Our babies are blooming and so is our business. Life should always be this amazing...and yet I'm drowning in these muddy waters. I'm suffocating in this sea of pathetic confusion. 

Tomorrow I wil not open myself to ridicule. I will silence my phone. I will tune out of social media in order to tune into my family, the ones who love, the ones who depend on me to be strong for them. I will drive our mini van and smile. I will sing. I will sit at my antique piano and play, just because I can. I will take my daughter to the dentist, meet with clients to go over last minute wedding details, and meet with yet another new couple who are head over heels in love with one another. Tomorrow I will live this life without heaviness, without fear, and without confusion.

Tomorrow I will not speak to my mother.

Tomorrow I will not speak to my mother.

Tomorrow I will not speak to my mother.