We finally got the oldest out of jail in Virginia and got him back home in Alabama. It was not easy, nothing went as plained, and nothing was the way we were told it would be.
The feeling I have over and over is surreal. My art instructor used to say that surrealist paintings never seemed to have enough air in them. That's how I feel, like I can't take a deep enough breath or I shouldn't breathe for fear of sucking in water or gas.
We got home yesterday evening. I feel a burning desire to practice my craft, but I am not sure what I should be doing. It is very obvious my daily practice should change, but I have no idea what it is now. I felt stirrings of change before. I had ideas of new things to try. But now I know everything should be different and that is just a bit overwhelming, almost as though I am questioning who I am.
I think part of this feeling stems from watching my husband's ex wife be fake nice. She put on a show of being firmly loving instead of admitting her son didn't want to stay with her because as soon as he was sentenced in Virginia, she moved to North Carolina. She never visited. Never wrote. Never sent money. I started thinking if she had really demonstrated tough love when he moved up then most of these problems wouldn't have occurred.
Too, I have noticed how the family dematic changed with the second oldest son. He is acting as if he has been deliberately kept from his brother and there is an air of desperation as he tries to cram in as much togetherness as possible but before now we could barely get him to have a phone conversation.
I now have less privacy and time. I now have an extra person to drive around because we don't have a running car to give him. He still doesn't have a bed. He has a toothbrush but not soap, shampoo, razors, or deodorant. There's more cooking to do, more schedules to conflict.
I don't think my simple spells are going to work. We need more than cooking spells and carefully tied knots. I think I need cast circles and screaming for the gods, demanding that things go our way.
The younger boys are still with their aunt so they don't know another person will be sharing their room. We go get them Saturday. Yay, more driving.
We are also debating changing schools. This is not easy at all. Our county dictates we must send our children to the school closest to us whether they actually receive the education they need or not. Our choices are private school, which we can't afford, and resend custody which we are obviously reluctant to do.
I think I'm going to try a meditation (if I can get a quiet moment) and maybe journaling to see if any patterns or solutions come up. Friday may become my Witchy day since that is when my daughter goes to grandma. As I work through my new life I will post updates.