This tiny ball of light.

I have been desperately trying to cling to the things in my world that make sense to me.  I have been reading YA fiction, taking long baths, trying to lay in the sun.  I drank and talked and laughed with old classmates at my ten year class reunion amid all of the cliques that have not changed.  I find myself coming up with different variations of the tattoo I'm hoping to get before the end of the summer.  I go to the gym whenever I have a free moment.

I am trying so desperately hard not to do the one thing that comes so completely naturally to me in periods of intense stress and sadness.  Seclusion. 

I had my first panic attack in over a year this last Friday.  I knew it was coming on, and I knew it would happen sooner or later in the day.  The symptoms were there for about 48 hours beforehand.  The inability to sit still or concentrate.  The feeling like something is happening or going to happen and I need to be moving, stay moving.  The final little bit was waking up that morning with fingers and hands that were shaking and tingling and no matter what I did, it wouldn't go away.

The last panic attack I had was on the day when Steve met Aiden for the first time.  I held myself together so well up until the point at which we were driving away, and I knew I wouldn't be able to make it home.  I drove to my parent's house, tears in my eyes, and shut myself in their bathroom and shook and cried for 20 minutes straight.

It has been about 15 months since then, and this panic attack had just as much to do with him, only it was unfounded.  He didn't even show up in court.  He didn't even do any of the dirty work.  He just let his lawyer take care of it all.  No more visitation, no more contact.  No explanations, no repercussions because of his decisions, and I'm the one who is left to pick up the pieces.

How do you tell a seven year old that he can't see his father anymore?  That his father is the one who doesn't want to see him?  That his little sisters will disappear into the background as quickly as they came into his world.  How do you form the words?

So we throw more love at it.  I take him swimming and cheer him on as he dives off the board, as he jumps for the first time off the high dive, as he swims like a little fish.  I tell him I love him more than any other person in this entire world.  I cook him dinner and make plans with him for the coming weekend, and attempt to make deals with God that I know will never come to fruition.  I cry secretly in my room at night after he is in bed.

But I get up in the morning, and I live my life the best way that I know how.  I know that I am in the right, and I try to cling to that.  I try to cling to knowing that eventually this man is going to wake up and realize that he has lost not just six initial years of his son's life, but the BEST years after that.  I am the one who gets to wake up every morning to this little boy's smile.

But, I need to get a Last Will and Testimont.  In case something were ever to happen to me, I would like it to be known who I want Aiden's caretakers and providers will be.  If Steve were to step in and say "I want him now!" in such a circumstance, there wouldn't be much my family could do to prevent that, but I would at least be able to assign my retirement and other assets to my parents until Aiden reaches 21.  Also, make it known that if that does happen that my parents would take over the secondary care roll and would be allowed visitation stipulated to non-custodial parents (i.e. every other weekend, a day during the week, every other holiday, extended visits in the summer and over christmas/new years holidays.  So much planning on the what-ifs.

I would love any sort of opinion or guidance in this matter.  I know I need to get Aiden in to see a counselor.  I know that I shouldn't have to deal with this burden alone, I have friends and family and friends who are family who are behind me and will stand behind me through all of this.  I owe all of them my undying gratitude.  Along with anyone who is still reading this.

Makes it hard to understand whether I'm attempting to study sanity or the insanity of my life.There really is a fine white line.  Not sure which side I'm standing on.