Cigarettes and Beer...

Two Stella Artolis beers and two cigarettes (I am publically admitting this) later and I feel much, much better.

This has been a killer week. And I have to admit that I am emotionally drained and ready to become a hermit and hide out from the world.

My brother, my younger,baby brother is facing a total life change. Without getting into all the details, he got into some major trouble, was arrested after a violent outburst where he threatened to end his life, and then held at the Milwaukee County Psychiatric Center until he could be released into family custody. He is facing diagnosis of being bipolar, and potentially other mental illness. This isn't completly out of the blue...my father's family all struggles with varied degrees of mental illness and differnt dianosis. I sometimes have mental breakdowns and become over sensitive and borderline paranoid. But to have this happen to my little brother, to watch him struggle with alomst identical issues that I watched my father struggle with has been exhausting. He trusts me and I have an unconditional love for him that is exactly what is appropriate. There is nothing that he could do that could/would change my love for him. And all I want is to be loving and supporting.

My mother has been on an Alaskan cruise for two weeks and Karlyn live in Seattle. The Bonk side of the family hasn't lived through the same history that I have. Hasn't seen their father kill himself. Hasn't worried that mental illness would rear its ugly head for their entire life. I have. And frankly, having to live through this, twent-one years later with my brother has been profoundly difficult. Too much even. So much that as I drove to work this morning watching the lake front I just sobbed; I haven't slept well in a week and all I wish is that he didn't have to be stuck facing this. That I wish I could do my job as the older sister better and protect him. But I can't protect him from a family history that is decades in the making.

To compound matters (for MY mental sanity anyway) there is a woman that is in Mike's circle of friends; it is no secret that she dislikes me and no secret that she acts inapporpriate with Mike, overly friendly and as a married woman, she crosses the line. I play volleyball with her. I lost it last night and ended up bawling and being an asshole. Not what I want, really. But today, after months of objecting to her behavior, I sent her an email that was blunt and stratightforward. I am sure that there will be consequences, but oh well. I am beyond acting like we are in high school. It felt good to say what I have wanted to say in a long time; there is something important about speaking one's mind instead of supressing or second guessing yourself.

And, on a vright note, there is my friend Stephanie. She is someone that I met through my work life and has become a friend and total joy to hang out with. After our board meeting today we had luch together, and by coincidence ended up meeting some teachers, one that I knew, three that I didn't. We st outside at neighborhoo bar/restaurant. I had beer and a hot dog. And bummed two cigarettes (I'll regret it tomorrow, but they were wonderful in the moment).

There are great things about life. Not all the time. Sometimes people suffer, sometimes people are mean. But life and love are good. Thank you to my Mike who is amazing, and thank you that Kennan is alive this week.

I think that I will sleep well tonight.
And I will run on treadmill in the morning, instead of running away.
It is good to face reality, even if reality is painful.