Tracking and the Unraveling Of My Psyche

If anything were going to sever the tenuous hold I have on my mental well-being, it's not the sibling rivalry nor the constant requests for juice. It's the tracking. Im talking emotional tracking. I'm talking physical tracking. Children following me around, asking me over and over again for things that are out of stock or my favorite, unavailable food items containing colors like red die #3, which has been shown to cause thyroid tumors in rats & aren't I a bad mother for denying them this opportunity! Of course I can't really explain this to them or Max will start pointing at all red snacks in the cafeteria exclaiming "Alert! That item has been found to cause tumors in rodents" and then I'll have unhappy mothers tracking me too.

I can take maybe 5 minutes of this and then I start to have the distinct sensation that my brain is seeping out of my fingernails. I try and walk away from the situation and then they follow me. The little people. They follow me. Sometimes I shut the door to my bedroom, but we don't have locks, so they just open it. I lose all track of time. At some point they stop and I slowly scratch and claw my way back up into my emotional body and then we move on and I start folding laundry or take on some other mundane task that requires little of me. While I recover.

It's the holidays... my good friend sarcasm has taken up residence in my frontal lobe to help me cope with the insanity and I'm having a bad day...
I'm sure tomorrow will be lovely...

Namaste.