Why is it that after weeks of agonizing over how to terminate childcare for two children that I knew needed, needed, needed to go, why after all the frustration and worry, now that the deed is done, can I not turn my brain off about the process of terminating them?
I was wide awake all night, vastly relieved to have them gone; but still the brain is churning it out, rehashing everything said, not said, done, not done.
M doesn't understand that. After all, we talked about it for weeks–months–about the problems developing; we knew these kids were not a good fit here–and so he is able to turn over and start snoring; just put them and everything associated with them out of his mind now that they are out of his house.
For some reason I am incapable of doing that, I think. Biologically hardwired to be incapable of just brushing aside conflict. I was not built for it in any form. I am a pleaser, a smoother, a diplomat and even when I know a situation is not due to diplomatic failure on my part, it bothers me. Deeply.