Power Goddess

03/05/10

I am strong and powerful and beautiful in my soul.  But I am still fragile, still susceptible to sudden waves of sadness that bring me to tears.

It happened last night while I was having dinner with a group of friends - some old and some new. The group is made up of volunteers who work the free medical clinic here in Macon.  I was there at the invitation of Loren and Lisa.  The atmosphere was frenetic.  Strike One. 

One of the women in our group has a troubled child, and her idiotic way of dealing with him, which included no small amount of swearing and shouting at him, weakened my hinges.  She consumed one beer after another, never shut her mouth and openly flirted with strangers in her son’s presence.   Strike Two. 

I began to worry about the child and tried to convince his mother to seek different help.  He is on some meds, but their plan is clearly not working.  (All along, I knew that none of their business was mine, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying to help).  She had a rationalization for my every suggestion, and I gave that crude and very drunk and stupid woman enough of my power to make me cry.  I am absolutely furious at myself for not throwing a psychological roadblock and tuning her and her son out. I didn’t think I would cry, but I was addled, kept rummaging in my purse for money to pay the check, dropped my money clip on the floor.  So I went to the bathroom to pull myself together.  Strike 3.

The tears came when I returned to the table and the group, including the dangerously dysfunctional mother and son, had left for a wing place.  My wonderful friends, Loren and Lisa, sat with me while I pulled myself together, then we walked over to the wing place.  

I needed to prove to myself that I had enough strength to cope with these people, two of whom were consuming a second meal.  Once there, the beer continued to flow.  If we had lined up the bottles, they would have made a beer train going nowhere.  Conversation was vapid and loud and endless, but I withstood it like a Power Goddess.  The poor child referred to his mother as the town drunk. There was much negative back and forth between them, but I wore too much armor for them to penetrate.

This morning, I can clearly see that I should have excused myself and left the table as soon as I had eaten my food.  The risk/reward of being with those people is absolutely negative for me.  I’ll leave the group to Lisa and Loren.  I cannot save the world.  That poor child’s lot in life has been cemented.  God bless him.  He really needs it.  I’m out.

Note to self:  You are a Power Goddess, and don't you forget it.