So yesterday one of the neighbors threw a block party to celebrate the end of summer. Maybe 30 people in all, but only Husband, and 2 other people that I knew.
Before we went, we spent some time with Husband's friend and his daughter. She's 4. I was again struck dumb by how "behind" the BoyChild is. He was being particularly Asperger's-y, and she kept looking at him like he was dumb and she'd look at me when he spoke and say things like "I don't know what he's talking about. What he says doesn't make sense." And at that point it really didn't. But it reminded me, again, that he doesn't fit in with kids his own age. Hell, he doesn't fit in with kids 3 years younger than he is.
So, then we go to the block party. And he's running over with the other kids, and I'm trying to figure out exactly how much of a helicopter I'm supposed to be. And I just started crying like some kind of idiot, right out in the middle of everyone. I got it under control for about 5 minutes, and then someone came over to tell me how much they love the BoyChild, and how sweet he is. Meanwhile I'm watching the other children at the party staring at him and generally avoiding him. So I started crying again.
I hate myself.
Then I got something to eat and kind of slipped off to a side to be alone, and my friend started talking to me. I don't even know what set it off that time, but it was just too many people. Too much pressure. I worked nights for 6 years. I haven't been part of a neighborhood party ... well ... ever. Too many people, and it all came down on me, and I started like bawling uncontrollably.
I left the party, hating myself and feeling like an asshole. Then I got home, and my door was locked. Husband had the key, as I wasn't planning on going home without him, so then I was trapped on my porch for a good 5 minutes. That's right, trapped. Not able to get inside and hide in my room like I wanted to, and unable to humiliate myself by taking my tear stained face back to the party that I'd left. Finally I forced myself back to the party, in the hopes of waving down Husband and getting the keys. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) he wasn't in sight, so I had to head back to the party.
I put on my "work face" which consists of a big smile, no matter how I'm feeling, and waited. After about 10 minutes he showed back up and I told him I didn't have a key. He offered to take me back home and let me in, but by that point the panic had mostly subsided. It left it's echoes, for sure, I woke up at 1am in a cold sweat. But I was able to enjoy the end of the party, and I even talked to some people and got to know a couple of my neighbors.
I just wonder what they thought of me, this girl they've never seen, who finally shows up to a party, only to break down crying, not once, but three fucking times.