A Crying Shame

Before I tell you what happened today, I need to tell you about my social life.

Socializing, and the Lack of It

I have always had trouble socializing. Part of that is being raised as an abused child. You don't want people to see your home or how you are treated, so you don't "hang out" with friends. You don't make friends as a rule, and if you do, you drop them as soon as they start noticing things (bruises, dirty clothes, lack of lunches, etc.).

As an adult, I learned to fill my need for people -- while holding them at bay (which is the only way I am comfortable with people) -- by interacting with people at work. During the years I worked outside the home I was able to maintain a steady stream of "work" friends; good enough for conversation and lunch but never invited to your home or for after-hour get togethers.

Prior to working outside the home, when I was raising Bonnet and Tori, I had tons of family around. My mother, step-father, two sets of in-laws, all my siblings, and several sister- and brother-in-laws lived in the same small town. I never had to seek out someone, they were always at my house and in my life whether I wanted them or not.

For the last four and half years that has not been the case. I've stayed at home with my son, which I wouldn't have give up for anything. However, it's had a really negative impact on my ability to communicate to groups of people.

Not counting sales clerks, I see one adult for an average of 3 hours a day; Steve. And during that three hours we eat supper, I take a bath, and Will is bathed and put to bed. Weekends are a little better, I see Steve almost all day both days. But people other than Steve? Not so much.

My mother is mentally gone and I have no interaction with her at all. My siblings are scattered about and if I see them 1 or 2 times a year it's a surprise to me. When I do see them, it's usually for a few hours here or there.

My father- and mother-in-law live about 30 minutes away and I try to visit with them about once a month. Not only do I enjoy their company, but Will loves his Oma and Opa.

I have developed a friendship with a woman who's son is Will's best friend. But her son started school full time this last fall and she went back to work. I use to see her 3-4 days a week for a couple of hours, but now I'm lucky to see her for 2 hours a week.

With the lack of contact I have with the outside world you would think I was lonely all the time, but I'm not. I don't really get lonely or bored . . . that's why God make books right? LOL

The problem is the longer my interaction with others decreases, the less capable I am of interacting with people.

Family Comes to Visit

My in-laws had family come down to visit this weekend. Every time this happens, the family in the immediate vicinity will come over and spend all the time they can seeing their far-off relatives. I guess this is normal interaction among families. I mean, these are often people you only see every couple of years or even once a decade.

But it is so far out of my concept of normal interaction that I can hardly handle it. A few weeks back, when his brother was visiting, Steve was over there by 9 a.m. and didn't leave until after 9 p.m. I can not handle that. I'm not saying it's wrong! I think it's sweet that Steve will put fourth that kind of effort to visit his family and catch up. I just CAN NOT do it.

Fortunately, in that case, he went early with Will and I showed up hours later in my own vehicle. When I couldn't take it any more I left. It was fine and that is what we should have done today . . . but we didn't.

NOTE: This inability to spend longs periods of time with family also applies to my family. We bought a small RV and when we go visit my family we take it so I can disappear in there and get some "alone time".

A Crying Shame

Steve's Aunt Carol, his mother's sister, and her husband are down from SD. To the best of my knowledge it is the first time they've been to Texas. We drove up to Dad's last night for super and it wasn't to bad. We didn't get there until about 5 and we were home by 9.

Today we drove up there for lunch and arrived around 11. All the way up there I was concerned about how long we'd be there, but I didn't say anything to Steve. Steve's brother Greg and family arrived around 1. So now I am in a house with 7 adults other than myself and an additional 3 children. All of whom I like, most of them I love, but still tons more people than I am use to dealing with at once.

I was feeling the need to leave about 3, but I didn't want to cut short Steve's time so I asked Stephanie if she wanted to go to the book store with me and we left for an hour.

We got back about 5 and immediately jumped into dinner and sitting everyone down. Every one's mood was a little tense as food was reheated and children who didn't want to sit were seated. And as it turns out, an hour out of the house hadn't done near enough to calm my nerves. Every conversation, every expression, every person seemed to weight upon me until I couldn't breath. I could feel my heart fluttering in my chest so hard I was afraid I was going to have a heart attach.

As soon as the meal was over and everyone started cleaning up I went over to Steve and let him know I was read to leave. I had already had to blink back tears several times and felt like I was about to blow. Although, I had no idea what blow was as I've never let myself get to this point before.

Steve was right in the middle of showing his uncle something on the computer, but I was hoping he would wrap it up as soon as possible. I went over twice more in the next ten minutes. I knew Steve was coming, it just wasn't fast enough. I stepped into the bathroom to wipe my filling eyes, hoping it wouldn't be so noticeable if tears weren't flowing down my face. But as soon as I closed the door, the tears started coming full force. I can't even tell you WHY they were coming. I was just so incredibly SAD. I felt so ALONE.

And as life would have it, that was about the time everyone decided to take family photos. In the bathroom I was in, there was no way to escape without being seen by every person in the house. And there was no way they wouldn't know I was crying.

"Why," I asked myself, "didn't you just go sit in the car and wait on Steve?" But I hadn't wanted to make a spectacle of myself . . . which was ironic considering.

I knew the longer I hid in the bathroom the worse it was going to get. I could just see everyone at the door trying to find out what was wrong and if I was okay. So I opened the door with the intention of walking outside as fast as possible and hoping Steve would follow me and we could discuss this outside. No such luck.

Everyone immediately noticed I was upset and wanted to know if I was okay and Steve asks from right there on the couch what was wrong. Mad at myself and him I'm pretty sure I yelled, "This wouldn't have happened if we'd left 10 minutes ago like I asked!"

I went out to the car and just crawled in and sit crying. Steve came out with Will a few minutes later and we drove home. I cried the entire trip. Some of it releasing pressure from the day and some of it shame that I had caused such an ending to the day. This will be the last memory Steve's aunt Carol will carry of me and my family. There was no family photo documenting the event. And I caused a scene in my in-laws house.

And the BIG Fear

Part of my tears on the way home were of genuine fear too. Fear I had turned into my mom. Sure, to a degree most people share this same fear. But how bad it upsets you depends on your mom. My mother is certifiably insane; on several levels. Her instability through out life has caused her every home she ever had, her husband, and all of her children. She was never able to hold down a normal job and she couldn't take pressure of any kind before she snapped.

For the first hour or so after leaving Dad's, all I could think about was that I had finally snapped. I'd finally lost a part of the sane person I thought I was, that I had crossed that line into insanity. That I was my mom and everyone was going to leave me.

When I finally explained those fears to Steve, it was like they vanished into nothing. Once he assured me I was sane, that I was okay . . . I believed him. I'm still a little weepy, but I no longer feel like I'm broken or injured.

Now, I'm just thinking it's a crying shame we didn't take two cars.

Next time we will.