With nice people.
And good food.
We said yes, we'd be there.
What's the big deal?
"You don't understand, Pam. We're going to be late; I'm not cancelling again."
"No, YOU don't understand. I will die fighting you before I leave this house. And I'm wiry; I can do it!"
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If you've never struggled with anxiety, it sounds crazy and unfounded. However, if you have, or if you've lived with an anxious person, you get it.
I have found myself re-explaining it to my husband lately, trying to help him understand, because the anxiety has reared its head again. In the early years of our marriage, it surprised even me. I couldn't understand it, much less help him.
I look back on my 20s of living single, and then early 30s of being a newlywed, and I think, "Go get some meds. Tell someone about this and get some help!"
In my 20s, I just felt helpless, thought it was my personality...maybe I was just flaky and couldn't follow through on commitments, was a bad friend...and all of those things resulted eventually. It meant changing clothes 20 times before I left the house, examining myself in a mirror, watching the clock tick and becoming panicky, telling myself "IT DOESN'T MATTER JUST GET DRESSED AND GET OUT THE DOOR!"
But then still not deciding, missing the appointment time, calling to cancel or just not showing. OR saying finally with anger and resignation "SCREW IT!" and wearing something really unusual (and not in a cool way but in a "screw you, world for making me feel this way...I'll wear my 90s Adidas running pants and combat boots because they're my comfort items. It's your fault; you did this to me").
I was the friend who would never go take road trips. I might say yes, but by the day before we left, my friends could guess I'd flake out. I was not leaving that town, and no one could make me. As I got to know myself better, I learned to say no the first time. And I really didn't mind missing the trips, because leaving felt impossible...like death...not my death, but something dying that, even though I didn't understand, I must fight against.
Anxiety hindered my friendships, but it was nothing compared to what happened with marriage. Add another person to the mix, and things exploded.
On my own, I could cancel a date with minimal backfire, but involve a husband...it becomes a real shit storm. I'm sorry, but that is the ONLY way to describe it.
Chris might be sympathetic and agree to cancel an event or date with another couple the first few times, but after awhile, he was confused and fed up. Understandably. Why did I agree to go in the first place? Why didn't I want to see those people whom I liked? Why wouldn't I want to HAVE FUN? And there was no way in hell he was going to embarrass us again and offend them by cancelling another time.
But what he didn't understand was that there was no way in the deeper hotter part of hell that I was going.
For me, when the anxiety is ruling me, there is something in me that feels--no, KNOWS, that I will not go...cannot go because it will kill me...it is fight or flight inside, and this little argument we're having is nice, I'll participate in it, but it's really just a prelude because YOU WILL LOSE. You might end up going to meet those people, but you will be alone, Skinny White Boy.
Here's a photo montage to help you understand the progression of Chris and me trying to get out the door in the early years (I'm all of the dogs being forced to the bathtub; Chris is the teenaged girl):
You see I won...not touching the water.
(end of part one).