Too Many Loud Voices

It's been a rough one. Today was one of THOSE days that didn't start out that way but slowly found myself on the downhill slope to cray cray town. I intended to write my post tonight about my struggling addict who screamed at me all afternoon over the voice that reminded me I have 111 days. 

I will never drink again. I know this not with a cocky attitude but with a confident one. I made a decision 111 days ago that I intend to see thru the rest of my life. But that doesn't mean it's easy. 

My day was only beginning when the voice came back. It said "a drink sounds nice don't it stephy?"...  My addict voice doesn't always use the best grammar. My addict reminded me of what a shitty mom I am. And how I let so many people down when I outed my secrets. How much hurt and damage I did to others and myself. But alas my addict wasn't the loudest voice today. 

My 7 year old was. It all started when he was hungry. It's amazing how this child hungry turns into something so angry and mean in ten seconds flat. I tried to sit thru my older sons basketball practice where I'm so awe inspired by another mom and her patience and calming voice with her autistic son. She obviously has years of practice and probably doesn't even know I'm staring at her for good reasons- hanging on her every word, so envious while my son head butts me continuously. I end up having to drag, literally drag, my 7 year old out to the car where on the way he kicks me so hard I now have a welt on my left ankle. He does that dead weight thing toddlers do during tantrums and because he's 7 it turns into more of a calorie burning workout drag thing, than a carry. For 30 minutes he screams in my face in the car about how he hates me because I'm mean. I'm mean? I do this deep breathing exercise and remind myself it will pass... I try to remember what he must be feeling inside is ten thousand times worse than what I'm experiencing on my end. Now I've been told, by several people, that a good spanking is what he needs. And that's all I'm going to say about that. Please don't go there with me. I assure you it's not. 

By the time we get home he's calm and apologizing then goes to his room for time out consequences. And I'm left crying. Again. When my 15 year old comes and says "mama, go take a bath and relax. Read a book. I got this"... And I cry even harder. Because I forgot two things:

1- it's ok to ask for help

2- my addict was silenced by my 7 year old. Even that grammar crazy addict has nothing to say to him sometimes. 

Most importantly I remembered... It's going to be ok. 

Remember my peeps ... It's always going to be ok. Enter profound famous quote here. 

One more just for today in the books.