Normieville

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Thursday of last week was one of the most bizarre days. Knowing the end of the day would bring therapy with the Bio I had trouble focusing on my work and keeping my head on straight. In between tangling with my new found skin and wondering how to best approach a man who never seems to hear me when he’s stuck in Bio-ville, I got lost in a lack of sleep and too much caffeine. My mind kept drifting away from reviewing the way I hoped the conversation would go between the three of us and how I could remember how the feeling of hands on my hips felt and then I’d wake up and remember that it had been forever since I’d had really good hot sex and back shelf those thoughts to jump back into Mommy Mode.

Truth be told, I was hiding from the cold harsh reality of what was most likely going to happen. For almost the entire fifty minutes we volleyed back and forth between whether or not the Monkey’s words were real or exaggerated. Often I wonder if we are even around the same kid. After the Bio recanted my lack of willingness to move to a week on/week off schedule with the Monkey, and how it was always about me…over and over again. When I finally got to tell the Monkey’s side of the story, I felt like the words were just falling from my mouth onto the floor and shattering loudly before they could even make it to his ears. And then finally, our therapist said the words that made the most of my babbling…

The Monkey is feeling your stress Bio and he’s not feeling confident in his ability to get you to hear him. So he’s asking Mommy to help him get you to understand.

The fact of the matter is that since the Bio stopped working he’s been doing a whole lot of working his program. I’m blessed that he’s chosen to remain sober for the last seven years. But there are times when I feel like he hides in it. Leaving the rest of us behind to wait for him in Normieville. When things get like this I don’t know how to make him hear me without an interpreter of some sort. And I suppose this means we are going to have to stick with therapy on the regular and at some point even include the Monkey in the mix. Being your son’s advocate for certain things is something I knew I signed up for when I had a child. However, I had no idea I was going to have to stand up for him against his own Bio. This next few months will be tough. Summer will be difficult. By the time August rolls around we should be back here again with the mean words and ignoring the fact that only one of us is really just being a stubborn nutjob. And sadly, this time it’s not me.

After therapy, we agreed to start small with changes to the visitation….like I said before, it might go better than I’m picturing it right now but Jeebus knows I thought lots of things would go better than they originally foretold. Let’s hope I’m hella wrong.

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