It is so easy to go from cruising along at just about doing o.k and passing the time without all life's worries temporarily stuffed to the back of my mind, playing some mindless game on Facebook to pass the time until I can eat because Abbegayle is out late on a movie date, to feeling like a ball of lead has encased my heart and I really don't deserve to even eat the crackers on the plate beside me. Half an hour ago I was singing a song in the car on the way to pick up Abbegayle and Saul, somewhat proud of myself because I had not made a big deal about staying up until 10:30 to pick them up when I usually go upstairs at about six thirty, take my medication, and end my day by sitting in bed for a few hours before falling asleep. I pulled up outside the movie theatre and thought it was the cutest thing to see them sitting close to each other, leaning against the wall, sort of bobbing up and down like there was imaginary music, obviously having fun and feeling in tune with each other. They got in the car and I didn't want it to be all quiet and awkward so I asked about the movie and we talked a bit and Abbegayle asked if I had brought Saul the book she wanted to give him.
I had.
But I ran my mouth and when she asked if I had switched copies from her room I was honest and told what I thought was a funny story about giving Saul the best copy instead of the rather gross one which had water marks and even cheese fingerprints in it, which I would not give to anyone! I laughed. I thought they might have, but the back seat must have been a different atmosphere. A judging one. A shocked one. An embarrassed one for my daughter.
There was more small talk on the way to Saul's house and then when we arrived home, Abbegayle politely asked me not to make comments about disgusting things like cheese in a book because she had already had to tell him that he couldn't come over because our house is kind of messy and she needs to clean it up and he might think that is weird.
I asked her what she might think or say if the person she most cares about actually says that her house is gross and she just looked sad and tearful and tired and upset and then asked me what I would do if one of her friends said our house was disgusting because they might.
I told her this was a big topic that we probably needed to discuss some time. Feeling ashamed of your own home. Feeling so concerned about your own friends not liking your house and them saying things about it. Feeling that I wouldn't let people over. I have not told Abbegayle people cannot come. I have asked her to straighten the downstairs computer game room. But I have not told her that she cannot have friends over. The downstairs, according to me, seems ok. Yes, the carpet is gross, we have a lot of knick knacks, there is dust, the wood is scratched, the couches are dirty, lots of things are worn and messy, but it has been set pretty straight by my standards. I am a little taken aback that Abbegayle feels it is not ready for her friends to see.
I get it. I know that some of her friends could be rude and judgmental. But then I think they should keep their opinions to themselves and grow up. Addy would never have said anything. Ali never said anything. Will never said anything. Those are kids of different ages who all came over or in Addy's case lives in a similar environment, and who just adapted to the place they visit and enjoyed the company they keep.
I want Abbegayle to have friends and company who enjoy her, not the carpet, furniture and arrangement of her house.
I know well how she feels, but i want to teach her at an early age that it does not matter. If you are living in a house every day that does not feel like a pig sty to you, just messy, then other people can cope. You just pick up a bit and move on and have fun.
The reason I don't see people is not due to the condition of the house. It is something else entirely. i am afraid of people, and friendships and interacting. The house, I have very little worry about now. Some, but I have a sort of "screw you" feeling about it. If I am not good enough, I am sorry. I really am. But I can't help you and I can't change right now.
I am worried that Abbegayle has reached a very sensitive age where she feels people will abandon her as a friend or even as a girlfriend if they see cat barf marks on the carpet, if they smell cat poop, if they see animal hair on the counters and floor, couch and table, if they see cobwebs high in corners that can't be reached, if they see the couch stains covered with blankets, if they see clutter, if the toilet bowl if not white, if the bathroom sink empties slowly and the back yard has things that need to be picked up and thrown away.
She is right. All those things are there. But I simply don't have the desire or the heart to fix them or move them. I do a little here and there and things get done, but something is always ugly and unkempt. I don't know if Abbegayle will ever be comfortable bringing a friend over.
But is that my fault or hers?
I think mine because I should provide her with the home environment that "most" teens in her school have. Clean, sparkly houses with upgrades and no dust.
In this area that is the norm.
Teens don't need to be ashamed of their homes because they are pretty and clean.
Most moms are not depressed and contemplating the date of their suicide.
Most moms don't feel defeated when they hear that they just embarrassed their daughter by mentioning a cheese print in a book they did not give to someone. Most moms would never say something so stupid. The cheese print wouldn't be in most mom's books. If it was, they would never mention it because that just isn't socially acceptable.
That is why I feel defeated, like my heart is encased in lead. I know I have a lot to teach Abbegayle, but my lack of cleaning, my lack of self esteem, and my lack of a plan for the future all play against me teaching her how to deal with every day fears about being judged by her peers.
I still feel that I know what to say, but it does not come across as credible from someone as "loserish" as me.
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