You can come but he can't...
This is how my PTSD of inviting myself anywhere began.
We use to get invited to a lot of gatherings. Parties, picnics, etc. At first it was a lot of fun. Making friends. The laughter. The feeling of fitting in. Then it began. As he became more comfortable with our "peeps", when he felt like they loved him enough that he could be himself... the drinking increased and the inappropriate behavior was unleashed. Eventually the invites became, "you can come but leave him at home". How do you think that went over? Yep. "You can't go if I can't go."
My kids had to lose the friends they made at these gatherings. I had to give up my friendships. This repeated for years with each new group of "friends" we would make. Until he made his own friends who drank as much as he did. And then it was ok for him to go without me.
It annoyed the heck out of me when people would talk about upcoming events they were going to and he would invite himself. Sometimes they wouldn't call him out on it and he would end up ruining the event. Most of the time they would warn him not to be an idiot and stay in control. That rarely happened. So I stopped wanting to go.
All of this put a halt to me even asking, "Can I come over?". I couldn't take another, "If you come then he'll show up so, no." Rejection became my answer. Rejected by friends, family. Rejected by him.
Sometimes I hear someone talking about something that would naturally involve an invite and when it doesn't happen, I feel that old sting.
Imagine how that feels. When you know you were a light at the party and someone else didn't just dim you, they broke the bulb into a million pieces. That kind of trauma stays with you for life.
I don't ask... ever. And if the invite isn't offered, we'll, there's always the baking soda paste.
Comments
Post a Comment