About a week ago, my step-dad actually let me in on what was taking up the bulk of his grief...something he'd only told his counselor before this.

My mom cheated on him. Which..........I knew.

He was reluctant to say it, and when he did....well...it was an awkward but decent conversation

and then he asked if I could write out what I knew about her past and her mental processes re: why she would do that, so he could share it with his counselor.

That.....was a lot harder than I initially thought when I agreed.

It's good to see him admitting it wasn't fair and starting to actually work through that...but it's also a weird experience, watching him drown as it all floods out now, when this is all stuff that I'd been begging for him to admit since I was in high school.

I'll be glad if it helps him heal. But there's a tiny part of me that's like "....where were you when I was going through therapy figuring this shit out a decade ago?"

And I'd just started to get to a point where my dreams of mom were mostly positive, and my memories of her were focusing on the good

The first night after that conversation with him, I had the WORST nightmares about her

I just finished writing. His therapy session is on Monday, so it's done and I can stop worrying about it

Now I'm just exhausted.