Lipstick.

Lipstick might be the cure right now.

My mother always says: "let me put some lipstick on so I don't look dead." I remember visiting my grandma in the hospital when she was actually dying and she always had lipstick on.

So acting as if might be the solution right now. I've been angry since I drove home from Dermot's last doctor's appointment seven days ago.

His nurse was convinced there was something wrong with him, I was not. At the time I thought I was just being selfish because the thought of going back to the same building where we had been last week and the week prior for and eleven day stay made my skin crawl. AND, I told myself that I would trust the nurses perspective more, so we were off to the doctor for a mysterious rash/swelling foot thingy. Appointment was at 10 am, which meant I'd miss both opportunities to workout at my new favorite gym. Please let me explain that moving my body a lot everyday  is essential to my mental health. We were there until 11:40 with two doctors saying nothing was wrong, a nurse asking way too many "routine questions" and "just a quick visit from the social worker" and then, I immediately had to go to a two hour meeting at the school district and sit STILL.

Trapped is how I felt. Being in two places where no progress is made, my time was not my own and my body was screaming to get out was not my idea of a good day.

The interesting part to all of this is how I processed this for the next few days. Feelings came out. Tears were shed, sweat was earned from my late night workout sessions. I turned into a rebellious teenager. I cracked my taillight of my Jeep backing into the trash cans, I ate a shitload of chocolate (Heath Bars are my current favorite) I played copious amounts of gangster rap really loud in the house and didn't do my laundry for days. Why? Because its all I could do.

I can't run away and stay out all night drinking at my boyfriend's house, I can't call in sick to my job at Dayton's and get drunk at my friend's mom's house, I can't skip school and sleep all day either. But all of those things sounded SO much better than listening to my son's regular pediatrician explain things to me that I ALREADY KNOW FROM 13 YEARS OF MY SPECIAL NEEDS MOM CAREER!  Ibuprofen is bad for your kidneys? No shit Sherlock. The parking ramp is in the second floor? Are you fucking kidding me right now? The autonomic nervous system in my son's body is failing? NO WAY...

So what have I learned from this episode of teenage angst?

It will happen again
Listen to my instinct with Dermot, I know him best
Have emergency chocolate in my van.
Grace is essential
Patience is a choice
so is Anger
Both choices are the right choice.
and if I've forgotten already: this will happen again.

Life is a series of peaks and valleys, the moment you get too comfortable in the plateau is the moment God reminds you to feel.

Be angry, be hurt, be rebellious, be heartbroken, be desperate, be honest and be loved.

You're going to be Okay.



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