3 people in pain does not a pleasant evening make.

The beginning of therapy isn’t a pretty thing. It’s like tearing open a wound and pouring salt in it. And when you initially re-open that wound, you bleed BIG.

To be honest, “The Man” had never really dealt with the pain of losing “E”. Instead he buried himself in a 60-70 hour work week, and tried to hide from the pain.

When he began to see a therapist, things got worse, not better. Much worse. During this time it became impossible for me to remain positive about "The Man" and Jona began to remind me that "it's all going to be ok, Mom - he loves us and would never really leave us" to an almost obsessive point, leaving me with no choice but to remind him that for any number of reasons, sometimes the ones who truly love us DO leave. I frequently reminded Jona that we had been fine on our own for a few years now, but this is something he did NOT want to hear. I became very unpopular with Jona, who never hesititated to demonstrate the complete disdain he felt towards me.

And it's not like "The Man" was actually gone. It's more like even when he was there, he really wasn't there. He was distant, short-tempered, distracted. He barely talked to me at all, let alone us talking like we always had. He was just a shadow of the man I fell in love with.

I’m sure you all realize by now that I write, like, all the time. Writing helps me process. Writing helps me sort thru my feelings. Writing is a wonderful tool. It is my tool of choice.

And as things deteriorated, I began to write.