Space Oddity (Or Why You Shouldn't Touch Me or Get Too Close)

This is one of my favourite moments in my life.  I was on a boat, with two of my dear friends.  I'm sitting on the front of the boat (I'm sure it has a proper term, but I'm not very nautically knowledgeable).  My friends are behind me in the boat.  I'm surrounded by water and no one is invading my space.

I've slowly come to the realisation that I have a problem.  I don't like it when my personal space is invaded.  In fact, I need a lot of personal space.  More than what is probably "normal".  I like to maintain an invisible barrier between myself and everyone.

Now that barrier can be flexible.  For example: in a crowded lift, I understand that we are probably going to be less than an inch away from each other.  But if there's only two of us in the lift then you need to be more than arms length away from me.

I'm not overly affectionate either, except with those I truly love.  I'm not a fan of the casual touching.  If I'm meeting you for the first time I do not wish to hug you or kiss your cheek.  I'd prefer an arms length, firm handshake and then step back please.

If I have one friend over and there are two couches, please don't sit next to me on the same couch.  There is another couch over there, please deposit yourself on that one.  However if I have three friends over and my couch sits two each, then I'm more than happy for you to sit by my side.

I have a dog.  My dog knows I don't like my space invaded.  He will sit next to me on the couch, but at the far end, and will only move in close if I give the command.  He will only sit on me if I pat my lap or chest and grant permission and he understands that after 10 or so minutes he will probably need to move back to the other side of the couch.

My best friend's sister is like a sister to me.  And she's super-affectionate.  She will sit next to you on the couch and hold your hand.  She will stroke your shoulders or your hair.  She was raised in a family where affection was freely given and received.  The other day she grabbed my hand while we were watching television.  After 10 minutes I excused myself and made a cup of tea, just so I could stop holding hands without upsetting her.

I allow my two sons in my space and freely give and receive affection from them. I have never withheld any affection from them.  I'm also utterly comfortable with my best friend invading my space.  I love the level of affection between us.  In fact, I crave the affection between us.  Because it's the most beautiful, platonic and profound relationship I've ever had.

But beyond him and my two sons, I'm uncomfortable in sharing my personal space and in general being hugged or touched, unless invited to do so.  I am involved in theatre where everybody hugs and is freely affectionate and I'm getting better at not flinching or evading these situations.

I originally thought "Oh I'm just not a very cuddly person" and that's okay.   But last week I agreed to dog sit for two dear friends and their dogs have zero sense of personal space.  I sat down on the lounge, they draped themselves over me.  I got up to walk to the kitchen, they followed behind, I went to the bathroom, they pawed at the closed door.  I went to bed, they tried to sleep right up near my head.  On the third night of this behaviour when Phyllis lay down in the crook of my knees and Basil laid up against my shoulders I lay there getting more and more tense, until I couldn't take it anymore.  I picked up Basil and Phyllis and deposited them at the very end of my bed and on the opposite side to me.  When I lay down I felt such a profound and overwhelming sense of relief that my space was mine again.

As I lay there, shoulders unclenching, breathing freely, the thought crossed my mind.  This is not healthy.  If you can't accept the affection of two beautiful, friendly puppies who want nothing from you accept your warmth and affection, then something is actually quite horribly wrong with you.

I'm a Space Oddity and I'm worried my circuit's dead and there's something wrong.

Time to get in touch with Ground Control, I think....

Baby, I swear it's Deja Vu

Déjà moo. Yeah, I know. Bad joke.

But I found myself in a situation that's almost identical to one I was in over 10 years ago.  And for a while I was thinking REALLY? AGAIN?

For about a week I slid down the slope into despair and frustration. And I found myself thinking and reacting the way I would have back then.

But this time around one thing was different. I had people to turn to. They couldn't fix the situation. But they could listen. They let me know that they cared.

Then I realised something else. I'm not the same person I was a decade ago and although my initial reaction was the same I did not ACT on that reaction. I took the time to think, seek support and realise that I'm going to be okay. 

When the war is over...

I had a bad moment with someone on the weekend. A relationship with a lot of history and one I have no choice but to continue. I limit this relationship to as few visits as possible and normally make sure others are around as a buffer zone. But I had no choice but one on one contact and it went as badly as expected.

I'm not going to discuss their behaviour; but its affect on me was profound. I let it affect me. Worse I let it affect a really good relationship I have.

I started off by feeling a little low, then I got a little anxious. Then I got a lot anxious. Then I had a panic attack. I managed to calm myself down but for the next day and a half I felt sick to my stomach.

I thought I had conquered the hold anxiety had on me. I thought I understood that one persons behaviour says more about them than me.  I thought it meant I was immune to letting that negativity in my head. Logic should always win, right? Wrong.

Now despite talking with my friend and knowing that everything is ok between us, I'm still sitting here not quite believing it, and with anxiety nipping at my insides.

It really sucks. It's a constant battle. But I'm determined to win the war.

It's not unusual...

Friendship is awesome.  I really rate friendship.  Like the quote goes, they are the family you choose for yourself.  I love my little family and recently it expanded.  I'm happy about this expansion.  But some people in my life are questioning my latest friendship and I'm over it.

I'm 44.  My best female friend is 28.  We met eight years ago.  She was fresh out of school, I was fresh out of a marriage.  We were both attending the same college, so that's how we met.  Our friendship grew slowly.  Mainly because I was very wary of people after a longstanding, unhealthy relationship.  But over time came trust and a recognition that despite the age gap we are very similar people, but with enough differences to make life interesting.  We've had a lot of firsts together and as time passes I know more and more that she is a person I can count on.  It might help that she's perhaps a little old for her age and I'm a little young, but really at the end of the day, all that matters is that I have a supporting, loving friend in her and she in me.

Then there's my gay bestie.  I've written about him before.  He's 27 and basically the male version of me. Together we are outrageous, hilarious, occasionally bitchy but forever loyal to each other.

I have one other bestie.  A woman my age.  She's bitingly sarcastic, smart and brutally honest and in some ways as messed up as I am (hey who doesn't go through life with SOME baggage?).

No one bats an eyelid at these three relationships.

My friends range in age from 21 to 72 and are a balanced mix of male and female.  They are all in different stages of life, but all of them are wonderful, loving, giving human beings that I count myself blessed to have.  They are people that are fun to hang out with, who make me laugh and are easy to be around.  But do I trust them with anything other than "social Bec"?  Well, to be honest, no.

But recently I've made a new friend.  I've known them about 5 months now and our friendship has developed fast.  I don't make REAL friends quickly.  Oh I'm a friendly person, outgoing and happy to chat with anyone (well almost anyone).  But I don't trust people easily and I also like to have my space from people.  Even those I love best.  Normally after several hours with them I'm ready to have some downtime.  I'm also very careful about who I let into my space as I'm super protective of it.  This is a hangover from a long term unhealthy relationship where I didn't feel safe in my own home.  I love having people over, but I hesitate to ask them over because I know after a while I'll start to get anxious about them being in my space. It's nothing to do with them, but it's a feeling I get that I have to control.  Logically, I know I am safe with them in my space.  But physically/emotionally my body/heart gets into flight or fight mode - just in case.

But this friend  is different.  I don't know how or when but they crept past every defence I have and I feel stripped bare in front of them - and it's okay.   I have been lonely in some aspects of my life, that not even my best friends really understand and I had just grown to accept that that feeling was a part of life.  I had accepted that the bad relationship I'd been in had left a permanent mark and I would never be that soft, vulnerable, loving person I would like to be. And then BAM along comes this person and I find out that I can.  Even more than that, I don't get anxious when they're sharing my space.  There's no flight or fight glitch going off in my body. It's a revelation. A totally scary, totally awesome, freaking me out of my mind revelation.

And yet other people are judging this friendship.  They are questioning me on it.  They are talking to each other about it and expressing how they find it odd.  They've even been telling me straight up how they feel a little weird about it.

So why I am getting such comments?  Because he's 21.  Because I'm 44.  Because he's straight.  Because apparently a straight man and a straight woman with such an age gap, shouldn't have the friendship that we have.  I've heard enough Mrs Robinson jokes in the last 5 months to last a lifetime.  And it's not like that.

It bothered me a lot at first.  It made me question why this relationship, which seems so strange to others, feels completely natural to the two of us.  But it does.  So I'm not going to question it anymore. I'm not going to give a damn what others think.  I'm going to value this friendship, because it's unique and special and because it deserves it.

Oh and if you're wondering why My Little Pony? Well, keep wondering - that's a private joke! ;)

RU OK?

I don't have depression. I don't have anxiety. I don't have any form of mental health issues. I don't have any physical health issues. I have a roof over my head, a job, both my parents, and two great kids.  I have friends that love me and a hobby that sustains me.  Just for today, I am not okay.

I am tired.  I am weary.  I am exhausted. I am alone.

As a single parent all the emotional, physical, and financial burden falls to me.  I chose to have kids. I love my kids. I did not choose to do this alone.  But alone I am.  I'm tired.  My shoulders are heavy.

As a full time working parent I juggle guilt on sides.  Guilt I don't give enough at work. Guilt I don't give enough at home.  Wanting to work more hours to make the money situation less stressful, not actually having any more hours in a week to actually do this.  I'm tired.  My mind is a blur.  Sleep does not come easy at night.

As a single woman that has her kids 80 per cent of the time I haven't yet found someone special. It's not that I don't get out.  That 48 hours once a fortnight I don't have my kids, I am out and about.  I'm out running the errands I can't do when they're with me.  I lunch with friends.  I see amateur theatre productions, go to movies, rent DVDs, hang out with friends, who give me dinner in return for me making dessert.  I walk my dog, I have coffee, I laugh.  I have wonderful friends that I spend hours laughing with.  They sustain me, inspire me, challenge me, accept me and love me.  But I have no one special to curl up on the couch with to share the good times or the not so good times when I want to share them.  I'm tired. I'm alone.

This feels like belly-aching when I look around me and see people fighting depression, people struggling with anxiety, people trying to knock cancer on it's butt.  People who lost their parents too young.  People estranged from their children.  People who, in general have it a lot, lot worse than I do.  I know I've got it ridiculously easy compared to most.  So I feel like it's entirely reasonable for others to tell me to suck eggs and be grateful for what I've got.     I am tired. I feel guilty for feeling this way.

But today I just want to drop my bundle at someone else's feet and give my shoulders a rest.  Because I've been doing this alone for 10 years and I just want a break, a minute, an hour to hand it all over to someone else temporarily, until I feel able to pick it all up and carry it again.  Because I can. Because I will.  Because I will be okay. Tomorrow. I am strong.

With a little bit of luck...

Around 10 years ago I suffered from anxiety due to a long term situation I was in.  It would start with a pain in my chest which felt like indigestion, but wasn't.  My heart would race and occasionally skip a beat, my hands would shake and adrenalin would surge through my body.  I'm long since removed from the situation and therapy has helped me deal with the anxiety.  I rarely suffer from it now, although if I feel I'm in situation similar to the one that used to trigger it, the symptoms will come on again.  However I'm now equipped with techniques to calm myself down, and have used them successfully.

I had a very different experience on Sunday with something I can only assume was blind panic.  I was auditioning for a role in a local amateur theatre production of My Fair Lady.  It's not my first audition, and I had worked with everyone on the audition panel in previous productions - so there were no unfriendly faces.  Now, I normally get nervous before an audition, but as someone who's been a performer since the age of 5 I know how to harness those nerves and always in the past, once the music starts muscle memory kicks in and a performance happens.  Also, I have this weird ability in job interview to harness nerves and normally interview really well.  So what happened next came as a surprise.

The pianist starts playing my audition song and I start to sing and I'm not in the right key.  I ask for another start and the same thing happens again.  The Musical Director, who knows I can sight read, offers me the libretto so I can quickly re-acquaint myself (with the song I had been practising for over three weeks on a daily basis) and try again.  I look down at the sheet of music and the words and they are suddenly a bunch of meaningless symbols that I can't translate.  It's like she's given me a book written in another language.  It was the most bizarre and frightening experience of my life.  I slammed the book shut and said I'll just try again.  I hit the key I was supposed to be in, but was so rattled by the experience that I lost the words of the second verse.  Bless her heart, the MD sang the third verse along with me to keep me going.

I went on to finish the dancing and reading section of the audition without any problems.  But for 10 seconds of my life I had the worst moment of blind panic a person can experience.  It was like something out of a nightmare, except I wasn't dreaming.

Panic and anxiety should never be underestimated.  It's a scary, scary thing.

Oh and one more thing: "C'mon Dover!  Move ya bloomin' arse".