Too much.

My mom called me last night for our Sunday night chat. Anyone who knows my mom knows that she is the most positive, outgoing person around. But last night, and for the past week or three, she's been down. She's going through some stuff right now that's draining her spirit and I can't do very much to help her. My parents, mostly my mom, own some pre-school centers in Tucson. She's operated them for 37 or 40 years. Mom knows pretty much everyone in Tucson or has educated half their children. She's trying to retire from that but the stress and unknown is getting to her. It seems everything happens at once because the health department paid her a visit and fined her for all sorts of ticky-tack violations. Mom's convinced that she's a "criminal" now. I tried explaining that it wasn't personal. I tried listening. I tried offering suggestions. But she just needed to be down. To mope. To moan and whine and be miserable.

It was too much for me.

I'm the type of person that wants to help others. I guess I get that from my mom, too. But last night, well, I wavered between wanting to hang up and start spilling forth my list o' crap I'm dealing with. But instead I just listened. Painfully, I listened to her story. All the while so many issues played out inside my head. Right now I have a list of shit I'm dealing with and no one to talk about it with. It's the kind of shit that I can't, no, don't want to, talk about with the Mr., or my mom, or a therapist. I just don't know who. It's the kind of shit that you don't want to say out loud. Once you say it, it's out there, hanging in the air, over our heads. You can't unsay stuff like that.

It's all just too much right now. It will pass. It always does. I would just like to know when.