I guess I lost the bet. Not that there was one, officially. But the standing joke between Big and Temptress is they can tell how lonely/bored I am by how many blogs I write or how many forum posts I make. (on the Poly Percs site that is– www.polyamoryonline.org – how’s that for a plug, Chias?) Big and Temptress are away for a business convention this week, leaving me with plenty to do and no motivation to actually DO anything at all.
So, I had promised myself that I wasn’t going to do either thing, neither post nor blog, during their 5 day trip. I was going to use my time wisely and make a dent in some long overdue piles. Maybe it had become a symbol to me of how independent and self sustaining I could be. But I was still counting on Fix to be here in the evenings and mornings for the school routine. The one kink in that plan is that Fix is on call this week.
Fix runs call one out of every 5 weeks. It is in effect Thursday evenings until the following Thursday evening when the next tech takes over. Normally during the week time, his call is little more than an extra hour or two in the evenings, but the weekends are obscenely crazy and demanding. I can usually expect him to arrive home late on Friday, then depart early Saturday morning, not returning until late Sunday night. His call territory is 4 states, so he can literally drive hundreds of miles between each grueling jobsite. I hate it for him, but he loves what he does, and he is very good at it, so we grin and bear the scheduling nightmare until that time when we are ready for him to retire.
With all that said, the timing of all these things couldn’t really be worse for me. (ya, I know, poor pitiful me, it’s always about me…waa, waa, waa) I generally am very competent at home on my own territory, but as a single parent of nine for a week, it becomes a bit taxing. Add into that two Scouts preparing for survival camp with below freezing temperatures, two sick preschoolers, two tween-aged girls with sleepovers, and three 6 to 8 year olds with cabin fever (it’s been raining for 3 days) and it’s enough to send me running for my favorite fallback – the keyboard.
In the last two days, I’ve composed some poetry, written our (combined) family Christmas letter, done a bit on IM, caught up on all my emails and websites, and now with little else to do except wait for Fix, clean the kitchen, or watch yet another Disney movie; here I sit. All the laundry is caught up (and in this house that is SOMETHING) and all the linens have been changed, the kid’s rooms are clean, the floors have been scrubbed (on hands and knees I might add), and everyone seems to be well fed. It was spaghetti and meatball night. Normally a big hit, but tonight we have tons of leftovers, even garlic bread.
I’m sure most of our readers do not tune in for a check off of my mundane to do lists or the nightly menu, but there is some poly (or at least psychological) substance within this discourse. One thing I think I have done well by myself in the last few years is get to in touch with what my tendencies are and why I have them. I may be mid response when I catch myself, but at least I realize what I’m doing and can approach an appropriate person with explanations or apology. And in this particular case, I’m experiencing what Big likes to call PVS (or, pre-vacation syndrome).
My PVS is a strange phenomenon that affects OCD types like me. It’s that crazy thing that makes me want a spotless house BEFORE we leave on vacation, so as to come home to peace and order upon return. It extends itself on to wanting an organized and well maintained house upon the return of my loves as well. Possibly I need to prove to myself or someone else that I know how to put on my big girl panties and do what most adults do way more than me. In all honesty, it’s really not so much about the house or the mess, as much as it is some psychosis that has fingers linking it to some abandonment issues I’ve dealt with all of my life.
What I find myself doing is systematically shutting down. This time it happened even before they left. I knew what was coming and it was a mental image I had of walking through an empty houses shutting off lights. Emotionally I just check out. It’s easier on me when I simply exist on autopilot. I’ve done this in a somewhat smaller way all my married life with Big. There have been times past when he was required (or chose) to travel for business on a consistent basis. My shutting down became a predictable routine. We even had an understanding at that time he wouldn’t approach me for intimacy within the first 24 hours of returning home.
What? No welcome home sex? Well, not for me. Problem with shutting down is eventually I have to reverse the process. It takes a full day of funk to shut down, and about the same to open myself back up. I truly despise this in myself. I don’t like it when my love walks through the door and I don’t have an immediate gush of emotion. Problem is, I usually don’t feel anything. Nothing. Not even relief. Yes, I’m so glad to have them home, but the child in me reacts slowly. Because it hurts to feel, and I suppose subconsciously opening and closing that window of emotion is better than pining away my days of isolation.
So on top of all the loneliness I’ve felt this week, I’m scared. Scared of alienating my loves who cannot possibly understand why I’m wired this way. Scared of hurting someone’s feelings that may be anticipating a warmer welcome. And scared that this bad response will be the proverbial “straw that broke the camel’s back” with Big, who has accused me way more than once that I “just don’t respond” to him like I use to (or still do to others.) I’m scared of not giving him what he needs from me, and I’m still scared he’ll take away what I need of from others.
I’m a quirky type – full of insecurities and neurosis that would set even Freud back on his heels a bit. At least I admit it. So who do I talk to when no one is home to chat back? Myself, via this blog. I’ve said it all along, blogging is very good (and cheap) therapy.
Goddess, 12-01-06
Oooooooh, I’m bloggin’ my life away, lookin’ for a better way, for me
Oooooooh, I’m bloggin’ my life away… (lyrics by Eddie Rabbit, liberties taken)
