Stress in the Home

I don't handle stress well. My heart pounds, my body shakes, my blood sugar skyrockets.

Stress is in my home.

I don't want to be home.

Something was revealed to me today: an interesting facet to the life that all four of the adults in this house had been living with, but of which I had been blissfully unaware. Today the main perpetrator decided to get it off their chest and let me in on the secret, and it turned my comfort and understanding of this household upside down. Why did they have to tell me? I tense up just sitting here thinking about it.

I know that ultimately I need to become the bigger person and rise above the muck, but right now I feel so mired down into it that I don't know if I can get past it. I must get past it. As much as I want to say "f*ck you all, get out of my house," I can't do that. That is my lowest character. It is on my shoulders to suck up my stressed out feelings and continue to be the understanding and compassionate person that I thought I was. That I want to be. How do I get past it? Set the drama aside. Wring out this stress and hang me up to dry.