Reality distortion bubbles

I’m praying I don’t step on toes with this post. I might. I need to figure this out any way.

I’ve had a really hard time since we left Michigan. No, since we left Ohio. Pennsylvania was hard and New York was hard and I had a hard time in New Hampshire.

I think that part of what is happening is that I am running into other peoples reality distortion bubbles and… they live in a world that doesn’t work for me. But when I show up at their house I have to go with the flow. Which means I feel vibratingly uncomfortable and angry and I don’t know how to talk about it as it is happening without shrieking.

Some day soon I will have consistent wireless and I will write a very long post about why I feel so comfortable with Noah. Not today. But it is percolating as I deal with other people. It is both convenient and problematic that Noah can ignore my tone of voice to listen to the meat of what I’m trying to communicate. I can sound like a shrieking harpy and he will say, “I hear that you feel really sad and this is hurting you” and then I can stop shrieking and feel heard and feel validated. I miss you so much.

Other people live in a world where calling people stupid is fine. You have to put up with it. Other people live in a world where their food choices are dictated by what they feel like having right now. I live in a world where I must manage the behavioral abilities of my children. Sometimes they do better than I expect, sometimes when I say, “They are about to lose it” they start flipping out five minutes later. My life is not based on what I feel like doing every minute. I have to respect my limits and the limits of my kids. Other people live in a world where they can say “I don’t approve of people who are/do _____ but I guess you are acceptable.”

I have no desire to be your token exception that proves the rule. Shove it where the sun don’t shine.

Specifically in this case it was, “I don’t approve of home schooling because most people who do it don’t have the education you have. Because you spent so many years in college preparing that it is ok for *you*.”

You know what? I occasionally run into people who home school and think, “Those kids would be better off in school.” About 300 times as often I meet people and think, “That kid would be better off home schooled.”

Yes, there are “unqualified people” home schooling. HAVE YOU ACTUALLY TALKED TO MANY PUBLIC SCHOOL TEACHERS?!!?!??!?!?!?

Many are dumber than fucking rocks.

“Is it possible to make some eggs without onions.” “I am not a short order cook.” “Ok fine. We can leave.”

I’m sorry my bowels have requirements you don’t feel like following. I will go elsewhere to deal with my body so that you don’t have to be inconvenienced.

Onions give me gas. Painful gas that means I spend a long long long time in the bathroom because I’m not sure if I’m going to fart or shit my pants so I can’t just walk around doing stuff.

I ate onions at every other fucking meal here but I’m at the limit of what I can eat without saying something about the problem it is causing me.

But I don’t matter very much.

That’s fine. I can leave. I’ll go somewhere else where my physical needs aren’t inconvenient to other people.

So we are off to Maine today. I never heard back from the home schoolers we know who moved to New Hampshire. I sent a whole bunch of emails. I haven’t heard back in three months. Three months ago they were excited about a visit. Oh well.

I understand that people don’t react to me the way they do because they are trying to be mean to me. They are just living in their own reality distortion bubble.

I feel really guilty about the fact that I never feel comfortable. I feel ashamed. There are always a whole bunch of things that don’t work for me for _____ and _____ and ________ reasons. I don’t know how to deal with that.

Even when I’m doing absolutely everything in my power to be accommodating I’m still told how scary, rude, and inconvenient I am.

No, I really don’t want to sit and watch tv with you. It is not a bonding exercise for me. It shows me that even though we haven’t been in the same room much for years and years… you would rather listen to a tv show you could hear any day (it’s on fucking Netflix) than talk to me.

Ok. I can go.

Just keep walking.

Just keep walking.

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