I’ve noticed something about myself, more than ever now. That something is…I’m a recluse. I like to be alone, a lot. Like, I really enjoy being alone. I like visiting with people, sure, but more often than not my limit for people is like 3 hours. That’s not saying I don’t enjoy their company when they are around, because I do. But after the 3 hour mark, I’ll start day dreaming of being alone.
Obviously, this doesn’t include a select few people. Like M and the boys. But they’re in my ‘inner circle’ so I don’t really count them in this
and frankly I need breaks from them too, as they also get on my nerves.
My mother is in town for the next week or two. I love her, but I’m still hurt about stuff that happened the last few years, but she’s trying to fix it, and that counts, right? It’s a start.
Anyways, the feelings that come with her being back are very complicated. I’m excited, I’m enjoying visiting with her, but at the same time my heart is exhausted from feeling all the pain of the last two years. I feel like she means well, like she wants to be around us and the kids and that she means no harm…but her situation still makes me anxious and stresses me out.
Plus…I’m selfish. I won’t lie. I’m always very focused on my little family of four. We are going through some struggles and challenges, and a house guest was the furthest thing from my mind at the beginning of the week. M isn’t onboard with the idea because he’s an introvert. He likes it being just us, as I truthfully do too. I’m not used to housing people for long periods of time and two weeks is longer than I’ve ever had to house someone before. I don’t mind the day visits, but at night I like it to be just us in the relative [Aj willing] silence.
I wish I could be selfless like a lot of people I know, who easily have family members stay with them for extended amounts of time and enjoy it but…I just can’t. I like to be alone. I think a lot of it streams back from when we had to live with M’s dad and step mom. It was extremely hard on me. I won’t get into it now, because its unimportant, but now staying with family or having family stay with us makes me incredibly anxious and I don’t enjoy it. I’m always on edge, always waiting for a blow out to happen.
I can never explain why, either. I guess because I’m afraid of people thinking I’m selfish or being dramatic or something. And maybe it is selfish to not want to relive that bad time, to not want to be more anxious than I already am on a day to day basis. Maybe I am being dramatic because its my family, my mom, not M’s dad or stepmom. But still, it’s hard to separate all that. Feelings don’t often listen to facts.
Regardless, I’m trying to move past all that and she will be staying here for a few days. I’m nervous about it, but we’ve been visiting with her mostly every day she’s been down.
Yesterday, we went to the beach with her and two of my sisters and their babies. Friday we are planning on going to the zoo if the weather is good.
I’m excited but nervous about the zoo, just as I was about the beach.
I don’t know when I started excitedly dreading these things, but here I am doing just that. Excitedly dreading outings with my boys. It is better to have extra hands, that’s true. My boys are fast and I am…not fast. But the prospect of solo trips terrifies me, and even outings to crowded places with assistance terrifies me.
I get excited because I want to go, I want to have fun. I’m dreading it because I’m worried the boys won’t listen, or that N will have an accident or Aj will have many meltdowns and that they’ll both team up on me or that I’ll get too sore and exhausted to want to stay. I get anxious when I loose sight of them for even a minute. You can bet I’ll be taping their backs with masking tape and an ‘if lost, please call XXX-XXX-XXXX’. That still won’t relieve half the anxiety though…
SEE? What the hell is wrong with me???
I feel like I’ve changed for the worse. Anxiety is just eating me up lately. Depression too. I’m doing my best to “overcome it” without any help from medication because everyone tells me my anxiety and depression is ‘situational’, and I don’t want to get dependant on pills when maybe the situation will improve. Some day.
Things will improve, some day. I hope, anyway.
I’m such a peach to be around lately, aren’t I?