home for the holidays

As usual, I've come to the home I grew up in for the holidays. This year, my brother and his family are visiting as well. Since they had kids, it's always a toss up whether or not they'll make it. With the two kids, they provide, at times a welcome distraction and buffer from the ancient family dynamics.

I'm not sure how it happens but more often than not, these dynamics rear their ugly heads. Sniping, impatience, meanness and judgement find their way in many conversations. My life isn't full of this kind of thing since I left home. I don't want it. I certainly don't need it. And I think I try to change it but I feel like I'm swimming upstream.

So today, I finally walked away. I found myself sitting in my childhood room trying to figure out what to do next. Do I take off to the gym? Go for a walk? Tell them how I feel? Stuck in the mud, I didn't do any of those things. It was enough that I removed myself. I crawled under the covers and tried to breath deeply. I finally drifted off to sleep. My safe haven.

When I awoke, I felt somewhat better. Could breathe more easily with things in a little better perspective. I can't control what other people do. I can decide how to deal with it.