Sometimes you think that you've got a handle on a situation. You're in control of things. You're calm, rational, feelin' just fine. Everything's ok.
And then something happens, reality smacks you in the face, you get knocked on your arse, and you realise that maybe, just maybe, you're not handling things as well as you think.
I hate when that happens.
I don't regret ringing DHS on my own brother. I don't care that I may have dumped him in some massive s-h-i-t. I know that I did the right thing. Yes, he's family, he's my blood, but so what? My nephew is family, and he can't take care of himself. He doesn't have anyone to look out for him. His parents should be doing that. They're not.
I know that I did the right thing. I have no guilt, no regrets.
So, why can't I sleep? Why am I literally throwing myself into my work? Why have I cleaned my whole house 4 times in the last week?
It wasn't until today, when a friend pointed out what I was doing that I realised exactly what I was doing. What I always do when I'm stressed. Avoid, avoid, avoid.