Tears, Regret...and also Joy

The day after my gallbladder surgery there was a party being held for a dear friend of mine by his lovely and "hawt" wife. The "hawt" comes courtesy of my hubby. It was my friend's 26th birthday and I had promised him on a stack of bibles that I would be there come hell or high water. I wanted to be there to share in a special day with him because I know I enjoy having a birthday party myself.

Now you have to understand something about me. Once upon a time I used to travel outside my home and go visit with friends. This was a constant thing. I enjoyed going to their homes, spending time with them, watching their kids play in the yard. Then something, I'm not sure what, went haywire in my brain. Such things were no longer fun but scarey. Going out of my house, being away from 'my zone' was too intimidating. I withdrew. I would be invited to parties, little get togethers, or just over for a simple visit...and I couldn't do it. I'd make excuses, claim not feeling well, anything. I had become a hermit and my husband called me on it.

Then I got the invitation to Bear's birthday gala. I wanted to go so badly. To help him enjoy a special day that he, from all I had understood, kind of overlooked and wanted no big deal made about it. To have him WANT this party and be so excited about it, how could I not go? I was determined that I would go. Even if it was the day after my surgery, I was going. To my surprise, I didn't feel that dread, that need to make up some flimsy excuse not to go. I was actually...excited to be going. When we first arrived and it was only me, my husband, Bear's friend, Bear and his wife, I was like "My GOD, people! Its his BIRTHDAY! Can't some of you 'friends' take even five minutes to stop by and wish him a happy birthday?!' I was so glad I went. The food was on the grill, we soon got to shooting the shit and...I relaxed. I wasn't tense, I wasn't looking for the quickest way to leave. I had planned to stay for about an hour or so, I mean I had just had surgery and didn't want to push myself but we ended up staying for five hours. FIVE HOURS. We ate, we laughed, we had a great time! I know everyone there was younger than my husband but he still was laughing and chatting. It. Was. So much fun. I was sorry when it all wound down and we had to go home!!

As I thought back on it all I wanted to cry. How many chances like this had I passed up? How many good times did I weasel my way out of because I was being foolish? I know some of it was because I had put on weight and was embarassed about how I looked. My anti-depressant, combined with the depression itself, helped me swell up like an angry green swamp frog. Why didn't I realize sooner? People were wanting me there because they like me just the way I am. They aren't inviting me over to whisper about my weight behind my back, poke fun at me, what have you. If they invited me its because I am a friend and my presence is welcome in their lives, I'm WANTED around because I am (or at least TRY to be) a good person.
Those five hours at Bear and Amalia's house were some of the best hours. To sit around and laugh, joke, share funny stories, THAT is what I have missed, what I long for. I hope someday this house of mine will be decent enough to have them over so we can repay them. So I can repay them for giving me back a little of my self-esteem. Thank you.