Today I did a thing.
I left my house in a fit of rage.
Not “I’m going to take a mindful walk.”
I mean: I’ve had enough, I can’t do this anymore, I’m leaving.
Like: keys, shoes, bye — I am no longer the Human Emotional Support Department.
I texted our family chat:
“I’m putting my phone on DND. If you need anything, deal with it yourself or call your dad.”
And I would like to be clear:
This is not child abandonment. My boys are adults — 19 and 21.
My daughter is the most responsible 11 year old on the planet.
Also: there is a fully capable father.
You can call him.
He can manage.
Anyway.
I ran some errands.
I went to the library because my master plan was to find a pub or restaurant to tuck into, drink wine, and read. But in my haste to leave, I didn’t grab my Kobo… so I depended on the old-school sanctuary of the library.
Library silence is like nervous system ASMR.
10/10. Highly recommend.
Everyone whispers. Nobody yells. It’s glorious.
I found two books that looked enticing. I got both because my love of mysteries is only slightly stronger than my impulsive decision-making during emotional distress.
Then I went thrifting. I didn’t find anything, but being alone looking at old things is therapy.
Then I went for late lunch and a glass of wine all by myself and read my new book like someone who has her life together and isn’t two seconds away from hopping on a plane and leaving for good…
Except I left my passport at home.
Then I went to the casino.
Did I win?
No.
I lost $60, and I’d like everyone to know that I consider it a reasonable fee for being left alone.
And I lost my library book in the casino.
I grabbed my wine, grabbed my purse, cashed out my 37 cents, and left the book on a seat.
When I went to get it back, casino security pretty much fingerprinted me before they would return it.
Honestly? Respect.
Also… such a me thing to lose a library book in a casino.
“Excuse me, Security… did someone turn in a library book?”
But alas, during my day to myself, I was not left alone.
My oldest son texted me no less than 15 times. Nothing urgent. I didn’t respond. Eventually I turned my phone off.
When I turned it back on, my mom and sister were looking for me.
Because my oldest had called them.
Even though I said very clearly I was going out and going on DND.
Anyway. They found my car at the casino and texted me a picture. They were worried I’d been sold to the sex trade…
I’m pretty sure at this point in life I’m probably safe from the sex trade. 😅
Eventually I came home, sat on the couch, and something wild happened:
My family started slowly converging around me like I’m the sun and they’re all emotionally photosynthesizing.
No one addressed the earlier chaos.
No one apologized.
We just sort of… resumed.
The dog posted up next to me like a bodyguard.
Everyone hovered.
A moment of peace emerged.
And I realized something:
I’m not a robot.
I don’t have infinite capacity.
I’m allowed to leave the room.
I’m allowed to be unavailable.
I’m allowed to shut my phone off when I’m at my limit.
Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is say:
“I am not absorbing one more emotion today.”
I asked my son (19) to pour me a wine… and that kid poured me a chalice.
To the top.
Probably a whole bottle.
A goblet, I would say.
That kid knows how to pour a glass of wine.
So that’s the day.
I didn’t fix everything.
I didn’t have a breakthrough conversation.
I didn’t become the bigger person.
But I did:
✅ remove myself
✅ protect my peace
✅ find my library book
✅ and end the day on the couch with wine, a dog, and a family — the cast of characters who are certainly not perfect, but are the stars in my story.
And honestly?
That counts.
Kirsty, Unhinged 