Tainted Reality

I often go back to this one scene.

I'm 19 years old, laying in my bed with the covers tightly pulled around me, tears slowly falling down my face, curled up in the fetal position, wishing my parents would stop arguing.

This summer, the fam trekked it out to Utah for vacation. Part of the vacay was shacking it up with my sister and her four kids for a few days. There's something so appealing about putting two families under a roof that was meant for just one and getting all cozy- kids battling for territory, friendship, spotlight, food, respect, and to top it all off, babies battling for silence to get their naps in. Cozy was always on the brink of chaos.  As long as we could hold chaos off, I was quite content, although I felt that lurking chaos itching right under my skin.

One night after we had gotten all the kids to bed, we went to put the house back in order and attack the kitchen, as had been our routine. This night, the kitchen was unarguably, absolutely trashed. I'm talking it looked like my college apartment when I lived with a girl who had an uncanny ability to fill every square inch of counter space- solo- with dishes while no one was looking. Uncanny. This was the state of the kitchen. Pure disaster. 10 people's dishes from 3 meals spread across, and then layered, on all the counters.  My sister's dishwasher had broken that day, our manpower couldn't keep up with the demand by hand, and this was the result.

I looked at it, and didn't deny for one second that chaos had broke out and we were in full fledged emergency state. I wanted to run and hide. Period.

My sister was right on my heels. I turn around in horror, completely defeated. She's standing there, her feet in a wide stance, hands on her hips, and...............the biggest smile on her face. "Isn't this great?" Giddy. She was giddy?

I looked at that girl, sure she was insane and said, "Are you serious? No this isn't great. This makes me want to slit my wrist. I feel like I'm in a black hole."

"Ahhh, no this is great. The cousins are all together, we've been hammering out food left and right, and this is proof of a good day."

I'm a preventionist. It's one of my strengths.  I strategize efficiently to avoid melt-downs, disaster......black holes! Chaos had broken skin and I don't do well with chaos. Which is why I work so hard and am pretty meticulous to avoid it. Chaos melts me. That night, with sis's big ole smile and me looking for the front door, one of my weaknesses stared me down, but not without showing me that there was a different way to handle things.

Today while I was running, something conjured up that memory, and once again there I was. I'm 19 years old, laying in my bed with the covers tightly pulled around me, tears slowly falling down my face, curled up in the fetal position, wishing my parents would stop arguing.  

But today, this memory was accompanied with a thought that resonated with truth.

That memory.....is it a reflection of my parents' "bad" marriage?

Or...is it a reflection of my inability to deal with chaos and imperfection?

Control has once again been handed back to me. This is my problem, not theirs.

Responsibility is liberating.

12 years later, I can finally surrender the fetal position.

PS Thanks for being my therapist, feel free to send me a bill!