Does anyone else ever get stressed out when they visit with their family? That was a rhetorical question. I know I do and if someone says that they don’t, even a little, then he or she is probably lying. It’s par for the course.
This week my mom, brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew are coming to visit. Let the fun begin! Did I mention that my boyfriend’s parents are also coming to visit, during approximately the same timeframe? That’s a lot of people.
Thankfully, my boyfriend and I each have an aunt and uncle who live in the valley to serve as innkeepers, so we don’t each have to put them up. Phew!
My family is great, but they have also contributed to the worrywart that I am. We’re an anxious people. I also like to make sure everyone is happy and gets along swimmingly. Therefore, I’ve been a little keyed up as of late.
I’ve been looking at microscopic slides of my family in my head for a couple weeks now. “Eek! That’s odd,” and “Oooh, interesting specimen.” Looking at anything that hard is straining.
Being a member of any family allows you access to everyone’s imperfections. I’m not excluding myself here either. What if I revert back to childhood Beth and clam up when I’ve got something to say? Sheesh.
I think part of my anxiety is also due to the fact that I’m not used to rolling in parties over four. I went on vacation once with six others and felt that was a bit overwhelming. Picking a dinner time with that many different bodies sounds like a headache.
Contrary to my anxious writings, I am excited to see our visitors. My brother and sister-in-law have never seen my place. I get to see my niece and nephew and hell, it’s a long holiday weekend with plenty of festivities. I guess I should relax.
I’m very anticipatory though and just want to get it out of my system now, so that when everyone arrives, I’m cool as a cucumber.
Yeah right.
My brother hated my ex-boyfriend, so that’s sort of stuck around with me. He’s your typical overprotective older brother. I’m pretty sure he can’t hate my current boyfriend, but you never know. Here’s hoping for the best.
It’s quite complex you see. I can be both worried and excited at the same time. Doesn’t everyone do that?
After countless therapy sessions it dawned on me that I tend to worry about anything and everything in preparation for visiting with my family. In the past week or so, I’ve found things wrong with my boyfriend, my job, my career aspirations and my life in general.
I thought my entire life was a mess, but it turns out it was just me anxiously counting down the days until I see my family. It’s just like my mother’s motto: If you prepare yourself for the absolute worst you’ll be pleasantly surprised when everything works out. Aw mom.
Six days until my family arrives: My boyfriend and I must need work on something. Five days until my family arrives: why is work such a stressful place right now? Four days until my family arrives: My comedy career is in shambles. Three days until my family arrives: Why do I live in Aspen?
Yeah, it’s sort of like that.
So you know what I did this year? Two days until my family arrives: I’m getting a massage. One day until my family arrives: I’m going to do whatever they want to do.
Then my boyfriend calls and despite my new attitude, in crept the evil tweaking about the plans for the weekend. “When are you going to meet my brother and his family? When are we going rafting? Did you plan on coming with me to see them tomorrow night?” Oy. It’s enough to drive me insane, too!
Meanwhile, my boyfriend’s general response is, “Hey that’s cool. Why are you so stressed?”
You think I’ll make it?
I’ve been around strangers with my family before, but it’s not about that. It’s about tension and release. Since I come from anxious people, anticipating imagined events is genetic. I only have them to blame.
The funny thing is once I see them I’ll be fine. Once everyone meets, the visions from the microscopic slides will disappear and we’ll all enjoy ourselves, I’m sure. Then I’ll be sad to see them go and so it shall be until the next visit whereupon I’ll put myself through the same torture all over again.
Aren’t families great? I know, at least I have a family to be anxious about. You can’t choose your family, and you can’t really choose how you react, but you can choose how you deal with all of the above.
Comments
only child?
it almost sounds like you were an only child, you for sure grew up in a small family.