Growing up, this was a Holiday spent outside of the house with friends and people who were safe. Although their secret keeping made them unsafe, that’s not a truth I understood back then. They were safe. They even intervened when the unsafe human acted out. We had a lot of fun on July 4ths and as I got older, the safer it was. Often girls split off and we met up with the guys later on. We went to festivals and played games and saw live concerts and fireworks. I have always loved this holiday. If I could choose a favorite, this would be it. The memories are not muddled with scary ones. But this year it’s lonely. It’s raining. I’m home and so are all the other people I live with, which is a story all of its own. It’s not a year for making fun memories but for sitting still with the discomfort, the heartbreak, the fear of the unknown, the stuck feeling, the hopelessness, the worries, and the truth that I don’t have an emotional connection with a single grown up on earth. I am here for my kids. I am here for the teens and college students in my life who look up to me and seek out my advice. I am here for everyone who needs me to be as I am able to be. But who can be here for me? I guess it’s selfish to want a face and a voice. I could choose to be thankfully embracing DS, but I forget you’re here because something about the negative support (though few and far between) feels stronger than the positive and stronger than the negative support I get from people who really have no reason or hope to understand me. You guys get it so I hold you to a higher standard. But I’m also terrified to say much because you’re still human and we are all in different places even if our journey looks so similar. I am feeling a lot and I’m exhausted from trying to connect and always putting one foot in front of the other. I need time to stop.