I am a Brat

Bill is leaving for China.

I am still not accepted the whole transition.

I know I have issues. Bill is my buffer to the rest of the world. I am not a people person. I recognize this and own it.

I do enjoy people but for very short time frames. I may be the ADD part of my brain but really I just don't buy most peopleare selling. So I am not a people person.

I believe that most of this indifference was created by my childhood. No, not doing the blame my parents for my disfunctional self. My parents did the best they could and provided both a supportive and healthy home for me and my brother.

We were military brats. Being a Military Brat is somewhat of a badge of honor. It has been said that when a parent is career military (20 plus years) that his/her family also has a career being a military dependant. For my family we moved every three years. That was just the base. I may have moved to two different school systems when in that area. At each new location you have to make new best friends, change your accent, what ever it takes to become "local". You incorporate all of your environment to create the new you. The new you must assimilate. Your whole perception of that location must be defined in a short time period. You have created a false since of belonging.

Now, I find that I just cannot invest that much effort into bonding with people. You either click or you don't.

Bill is my buffer. He fills in those uncomfortable moments when I am screaming in my head.

Tonight, we meet up with a group from his office. I don't know these people on personal level. Within 30 minutes I can feel the blood pouring out of my ears. Sixty minutes, my eyes. I am bleeding out...crash....code blue. The "extra-extra large" woman that has no volume control is going on and on about "name-name". Name Name does this and Name Name likes that. I lean over to Bill and ask who is Name Name? Name Name is sitting across from XXL. XXL talks about Name Name in the third person all evening. Name Name says NOTHING. oh, the sounds of friendship. I say my polite good nights and run home.

How am I going to survive without Bill? Who is going to remind me when to breathe?

Freezing Rain

This is my blog.

How generic.

For those that know me, thanks for popping in.
For those that do not welcome.

My drive for this was to share with my husband, Bill, what is happening at home.
He will be back and forth to China for the next two years. This sounded like a great idea.

So forgive me for any mistakes or social faux pas.