Recluse, I Am

I read about Huguette Clark, an heiress to a copper fortune, who is now 104 and living in a room in a hospital in New York. She spends her days playing with her dolls and watching cartoons. From the article, it seems that Ms. Clark did not like socializing with people and this came about, possibly, after several traumatic experiences - death of her sister, mother, a divorce, and a father who was not very loving. She had only one friend and that friend has Alzheimer's.

I do not have a fortune. Neither did I experience any deaths of loved ones. However, my experiences have been traumatic and I find myself retreating into my own sanctuary more and more. I hesitate to talk about my experiences to friends because they do not understand. Although they have good intentions when they speak, their words still hurt. Perhaps I am being oversensitive. During those moments, I try to steel my heart and let the words slide off my back but I couldn't. It hurts too much to have my feelings dismissed. Oh, by the way, these friends usually make flippant comments to try to show they understand what I went through. I would prefer them admit that they don't understand and can only offer to listen. Often times I want to tell them to walk a mile in my shoes before speaking. Or, ask, "What can I do for you?"

I have done that to another friend who had gone through a few traumatic experiences. I didn't understand her situation and had wanted to "guide" her but in process, I destroyed the friendship. I regret my harsh treatment of her. However, out of those conversations, she seemed to have emerged stronger and took bold steps into the future. Actually, I don't know if I influenced her decision ... she has thus far, refused to divulge anything from her heart and mind. I have stopped imposing on her life as well, although I yearn to hear her voice.

So, after speaking with these friends, I have become a recluse. I don't dare talk to anyone anymore. Nobody wants to "just listen". They give opinions. Even my parents speak ill of my parenting without meaning to. I guess God is the only one. So, I am trying to talk to Him.

Currently, I am content in my own safe world. No friends, no socializing. I don't want to explain about the kids' allergies or why we have not gone to Disneyland. People say, "Oh, just do this. Just do that. It's easy!" I don't know. After watching my son looked as if he were dying, I just want to sit in the pond and not see any ripples. I want quiet waters for once. Going far away would mean swimming and I don't want to. For now.

Perhaps next summer might be better. This summer and last were horrendous. Each revealed severe allergies. L - peanuts (last year). J - tree nuts (this year).

Seriously, both kids are like the ying and yang of allergies. Whatever one is not allergic to, the other one is. *sigh*

So, until I am ready to come out of my shell from the center of the pond, I am content with being in the dark and in still waters.