I think I've had enough.

The last time I wrote something here, was at least three years ago. Wow. And I feel as though I am always here writing something deep, personal, and about my family. (forgive me y'all- one day it'll be a book & I *might* change your names. I already have my title picked out). Yesterday I had a really rough morning. I didn't get to work until 0815, because I was too busy sobbing at home to even get mascara on. Y'all need to remind me to write when I am feeling bad, down, happy, excited, etc. Writing has always been my outlet and yet I have wasted my time by not doing so and instead being an ignorant female who thought I could handle everything without putting my words down on paper. It's basically 1am, and I should be in bed. Technically, I am in bed. But I need to go to sleep. Ever have those days/weeks/months where you just can't sleep until you get it all out? This is definitely going to take more than one or two posts but I am going to try to keep it short (lol- nothing in my life is ever short, it takes me 18 stories to get to one so I can make my point). The first thing I ever wrote on here was about resentment. And how I resented my sister for doing meth and being in jail on and off again since I was 16. And I am still battling resentment, 14 years later. I don't get drugs. I don't get meth. I don't get not wanting to sleep and eat... I mean, food is delicious! Resentment is a strong word. Is it really what I meant four years ago? I guess we will delve deeper into that here. We are currently in October of 2017. I'm going to take it back to at least December of 2016, and make this all about myself, of course. In December, on vacation visiting my in-laws in Springfield, I was in the middle of accepting a job at a private practice. But, I logged into my e-mail to fill out some paperwork and had an e-mail from my current boss- asking me to come into Mercy and interview for a different clinic with her. I had been in contact with her for about eight months at this time. So, I went. I was so happy to go. I walked out of the hospital knowing that that is where I was supposed to be. Later that day, I gave my notice to my old employer and said peace out homies (well, after a brutal we aren't even speaking to you three weeks). It wasn't an easy start. I was used to knowing everything, being the go to girl, the one who created all of our forms, implemented ideas, did clinical evaluations, vendor contracts, report guru, etc. to basically.... how do I pay this bill?! Talk about culture shock. But, my boss had (has) faith in me. And right when I feel like I was getting it all, in the end of February 2017, my sister went back to jail. (Refer to blog called "resentment"). But this time was different. She now had a 2 year old. The cops showed up to my house after midnight asking me to come get Lexi. I just said yes, and Nate (my husband) and I went to go her. With zero clothes, no car seat, nothing for her at all. But my friends, they pulled through. And my work was super cool about it all- After all, I how have a two year I wasn't expecting. Nate, my parents, my brother- all rotated taking a day off because I couldn't miss work (I was brand new!). But my sister got out of jail after one week and I was told that I had to take Lex back or be charged with kidnapping. So, she wen't back to her mom and dad (punitive father- not her bio dad, but on her birth certificate. Bio dad wants nothing to do with her- sucks for him, she's a super cool kid and is REALLY good at eye rolls). ONE WEEK LATER: My mom calls me, Nate and I had just sat down at Bentonville Brew Co (two in the afternoon) to have a beer: "Is Lexi with you" she asked me? Me: "No, I thought you were going to go get her for the weekend?" Mom: "Your sister is back in jail and I don't know where Lexi is, I'm on my way to your house". Me: "Nate, chug both of these beers, we have to find Lex". But Lexi was in foster care already at this time, a minimum of 14 hours since we had talked to my sister last, but we didn't know that. We didn't know anything. The police department wouldn't share any information (rightfully so), so phone calls to the children's shelter led us to DHS. I met them there at 5pm to find my niece... on a Saturday. **If you want to know more, stay posted. This is going to get long, nitty gritty, and deep down into my soul. Just trying to give some background first.** RESENTMENT>METH