Noah is off. He’ll be gone for like 43 hours.

In the past couple of days I have been expressing boundaries everywhere. I’m setting them with my kids, with Noah, with friends, on websites. I have unsubscribed to forums that are increasing my feeling of dysregulation. I have unfriended people I love on social media because that interaction isn’t healthy for me when I’m unmedicated. I am telling neighbors “I am going now” when they won’t shut up. I am…

I am trying to ensure I don’t explode at my kids.

I keep having this mental image from a Tamora Pierce book. In it she has has a character meditate to control her magic, this character expresses her magic through fiber arts, and spinning is a big thing for her. So when she is trying to control her power she visualizes pulling it in and putting it into a nice tight string on a spindle.

I feel like I’m doing that.

Pot allows me to be patient with things that bother me. Pot allows me to ignore minor boundary incursions and small slights and little hurtful things. Without the pot I am raw and wounded and I cannot handle a lot of things.

I am using each one of these points of irritation as a guide. Maybe I have been allowing myself to be hurt more than I should and I’ve been dissociating from that pain using pot. That seems totally possible. Even likely.

Let’s find out which relationships suffer from these boundaries. I need to set them though. I cannot accept the amount of going up and down the roller coaster I’m doing if I am going to be nice to my kids.

Being nice to my kids comes before accepting upsetting statements from adults. If I have to get to where I can’t hear the adults, ok. That’s the price.

I feel like a fairy walking around yelling, “A BOUNDARY FOR YOU, AND A BOUNDARY FOR YOU, AND HOW ABOUT TEN BOUNDARIES FOR YOU.”

It’s a process.

But I feel happier than I expected. More calm. I feel ok.