LonelyMomDotCom "Her Secret Life..."

I have hesitated posting this because I do not want for anyone that may ever read this blog to think that I live this lifestyle. As Seinfeld would say, "Not that there's anything wrong with it!" 

I do believe it fits here, though. As I have pointed out, I have a very bland existence and this experience was as unusual and out of character for my life, as this entry is for what I am trying to express or represent in my blog. 

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So, in the last decade, I have a had three real friendships that went south, and one potential real one...that turned out to be a farce, though it took me years to know it. Like a person's romantic relationships, I have found that friendships ebb and flow...in my case, to their bitter end.

I am starting at the decade mark, because that is when I started traveling in the "Mommy" circle. You know, those women that you meet based on your child's activities, or (at the time) class assignment. That is where this chapter in my life begins. 

My first attempt at friendship was with S. She was quiet. Our children were in pre-k together. We saw each other frequently, which forced the inevitable required conversation upon each meeting (kids, activities, lack of sleep). We started our friendship slowly but eventually grew into close friends and confidantes. As the year rolled on, we gathered our families often for parties or meals or just hanging out. Until...

One night, after a family meal, S and I decided to have a girls' night out. My husband drove us to a restaurant (so I might have a glass of wine) and dropped us off. We laughed. We chatted. We had a few drinks. I have no idea how much time went by before the conversation turned to this...

She started by telling me that she was a "swinger". She described her lifestyle in great detail. I was in shock.  Now, first, please understand, though swinging is not my cup of tea and I was most definitely surprised by her revelation, I truly would've gotten over that, had it stopped there. We would've have never had to discuss it again. I would've considered her one of the more colorful people in my life. Second, to this day, I have no idea why she thought that I was even open to this discussion. Our friendship had never even involved one discussion about sex. It had just never gone to that place. This was really coming out of nowhere. It was the next few minutes that floored me.

She spoke of how she gives her husband the thumbs up before he can "date" someone. (Though what she described was not dating.) She went on to tell me that before he could "date" someone, SHE dated them first. I kept trying to laugh her off, not really sure, at first, if she was serious. She WAS, after all, a little tipsy. 

Then, she started down the road of no return. She told me that I had had too much to drink and that we should call her husband and have him pick us up. I explained that my husband was coming. She was insistent that I spend the night at her house. This went on for what seemed like forever. I said no. I walked away for a minute and called my husband. 

I felt so uncomfortable. The way you feel when you are alone with a date and you feel like he has a different idea of where the two of you stand than you do.

The rest of that evening was uneventful. My husband picked us up and we dropped her off.  I was upset, confused and shocked. I told my husband. He was angry. 

The next morning she called to see how I was. Suddenly and without invitation, her husband got on the extension and said he wanted to take me out and get me a few GROWN UP DRINKS! (I still have no idea what that meant but that is what he said.) What?! I said good bye and hung up. I was certain that I was misunderstanding what was going on. These people were my friends, after all...or so I thought. 

I replayed the night and that conversation over and over in my head for the next few days. S called me relentlessly. I would not pick up or return her calls. Then, she started to drive by my house. I was shocked. This was what I would've expected from a man that I rejected. 

Then one day she showed up on my doorstep. She pounded for what seemed like forever. I am not a timid person but I was actually afraid. She screamed and yelled that she knew that I was "in there". I was so afraid by this point that I called my husband to come home from work. When he arrived, he found a long letter in my mailbox. It said how she needed me, among other things.  She continued to try to contact me for a few weeks. She even sent letters that had no return address...I only fell for that once. I have never seen her again. 

Of all of the things that a grown woman would expect to experience when entering a new friendship, this was not one of them.

LonelyMomDotCom "Let Me Introduce Myself..."

I am an average woman. If you walked past me in the mall, you wouldn't look twice. 

I had a career that I had a love/hate relationship with. I swore that I would never leave it until I fell my first child kick for the first time. Then I swore that I would never leave him. I quit. 

I have a wonderful husband that I do not deserve. He is my best friend...which we were for a year before we even considered a first date. 

I spend my days and nights with my children doing whatever I can to bond with them. This flies in the face of everything I expected to be as a mother. My thinking is that I only have a limited amount of time to have them at home with me. There will only be a limited amount of time when they want MY attention. Then, I'll be chasing them for theirs. 

I homeschool my children. It came to be originally out of necessity. It continues by choice. Being with my children day to day is a gift of time and memories that I never knew that I even wanted until I was faced with no longer having it. I cannot foresee me ever sending them back to school. 

I am prone to depression. It runs in my family. 

I started blogging, literally, to save my sanity. No one ever told me that motherhood was going to be this hard, this challenging, this lonely.  You hear about the rewards of being a mother. There ARE many. So many  But there have been times when I have been in a very dark place. Sometimes that darkness seemed endless. When there was no one to talk to or no one that understood, I journaled. Then one night, I decided to publish this blog...like a note in a bottle in the ocean.. Hopefully, one day, it will wash up on someone's beach.

LonelyMomDotCom "Here I Go Again..."

I have spent these last few months trying desperately to get into the fold of our new homeschool community. It's been a year since we started homeschooling. In that year, I have tried to become a joiner. Much to my chagrin, I think that's am not capable of just "going with the flow". I discovered today, what I wish I would've realized a long time ago...I am not capable of easy social interaction. The idea of a pending social function makes me physically ill. I dread it for days in advance. On the day of the event, I try, in my head, to invent a million reasons not to go. I think that from the outside, if someone were to watch me and know my though process on that day, they might think that I was lazy...of course...a mother not wanting to take her children to a social function. There were times when I asked myself just that. Did I just not want to be bothered? But I knew different. I knew (and know) that if there were a pill that would make me walk into a room and not have a mild heart attack, I would take two!

I thought that if I immersed myself in social situations, I would slowly become immune to the panic that strikes the night before even the most innocent playdate. So I did just that. I signed up for anything I could. I would further commit myself by paying in advance for field trips....therefore instituting a financial penalty on myself for backing out. I have been doing this since late October/early November. It is now April...a full six months into my self prescribed "immersion therapy". Guess what? I failed. Miserably. 

I think the term being "socialized" is a misnomer. In my experience, you either ARE social, or you ARE NOT. Just as your gender and height are predetermined, so must your ability to mesh into a group of people. I do not mean "to belong", or make easy conversation, or even make a joke. I mean, simply, the ability to walk in, stand there, and not feel the clunky awkwardness of just STANDING THERE...wondering if you should sit or stand...walk up to someone and start a conversation or remain on the sidelines. It feels as though the oxygen gets sucked right out of my lungs. 

This happened again today. Another outing with what has now become a familiar group of people. They are kind and welcoming. I stood on the sidelines. When a mom finally came up to speak to me, I truly had no idea HOW to make a conversation with her. I have spoken to her now multiple times. As she spoke, I found myself silently searching my brain, asking myself "What should I say to her next?". In those moments, I know I must've appeared uninterested in what she was saying, when actually I was trying to figure out where to go next with the discussion. 

I sit here this evening, so discouraged.

Now, I know...KNOW...that in the grand scheme of the world there are real problems. I realize that there is homelessness and hunger, joblessness and illness. I am aware that my quandary exists in my world alone, and may seem small and petty for me to put so much time and thought into it...but you see...this problem affects my children a great deal.

At the end of today's field trip, others lingered. I did not. The activity was done, and I knew that if we stayed, the others would try to speak to me and peg me a bumbling idiot...because one on one, with no other distractions I AM a bumbling idiot. I knew as I walked out, that my children would've loved to stay and hang out. In truth, we stayed longer than I wanted. I fought myself to stay for the last half hour, as I sat at a table alone, where I had been for over an hour, as the other parents were scattered, in groups, at other tables. So in reality, I won that battle and held on as long as I could. 

I'm starting to wonder if I will ever feel "normal". The odd thing is that in my career prior to being a SAHM, I had to speak in public and in social situations everyday. It wasn't easy, but it was my job. I have tried to look at this situation that way..."It's my job to take my children to social activities.". That just doesn't work. 

If it was behavioral, then nothing could make me want to change it more than doing it for my children's sake...after all that's what has made me walk into every frightening room for over a decade now. 

If it's not behavioral, then is there hope?