Basket Case, Party of One

Posted: November 11, 2008 in Calvin, Drama, Family, Headspace, Home, Humiliations galore, Maine, WTF

1iconcalvinkissgirlhandI’m a girl who cries easily, and is not ashamed. If I watch a TV show or movie (or FUCKING HALLMARK COMMERCIAL, damned holiday season) that makes me tear up, then I just let it go instead of stuffing it back down and pretending like “I have something in my eye.” If I feel like I need to cry, then I just cry because I know I’ll feel better afterwards. It’s just how my emotions work. And usually it’s not a big deal.

But sometimes I get a wee bit basket-case-ish. I suspect that I might be a little high strung. (Readers: “You suspect?” Laura: “Hush, you.”)

I bawled my little eyeballs out last night. Because I lost a necklace.

Then I bawled some more, because I’m homesick and I miss my Grandmother.

THEN I bawled SOME MORE because we don’t have a good relationship with half of Calvin’s family, which is preventing us from having a Rockwell sort of holiday season. Not that I don’t bless the de-complicated arrangement that our holiday plans have become over the past few years. And I completely support Calvin in his reasoning and feelings about the cause of the rift. But still. Rockwell.

So, the necklace. Last year when Calvin and I were in Maine, we drove up to Boothbay Harbor and wandered around, tourist-like. He bought me a necklace, which I mentioned in this entry. This necklace was special to me for two reasons. One, it was from Maine (natch) and reminded me of home every time I wore it. Two, and most importantly, it was from Calvin, and while Calvin is a wonderful, loving, fantastic husband, he doesn’t often give spontaneous gifts. Which I’m not complaining about in the slightest, as I’m not the “gimme a present!” sort of chick. It was the fact that he picked it out for me, knows me well enough to be sure that I would love it, bought it for me as a surprise, and wanted me to have it… well, it just meant a lot.

Crap, I’m going to cry again.

I loved that necklace, and I’m so mad at myself for being careless enough to stuff it in my change purse and forget it was there, then in the process of digging money or change or something out of that pocket, lose the starfish charm that went on the leather cord.

Dammit.

So, I’m all choked up and trying to stop crying over the loss of the necklace, and I check the message on our voicemail (we’d gone to the Dark Horse to watch the first half of the Cards game and it was while driving home that I realized I’d lost the starfish charm). It was Calvin’s grandmother, who knew we didn’t plan to gather with the whole family for Thanksgiving, because of the differences we have with Calvin’s mom and youngest sister. But she wanted to invite us anyway, and said she hoped to see us for either Thanksgiving or Christmas.

We’re planning on seeing the Grandparents individually for the holidays, rather than at the whole family gathering, so that we can have a nice, tension-free visit with them. But her message made my brain go something like this:

“Waah! I miss my Grammy! Calvin has HIS Grammy AND his Mom and he just doesn’t knooooooow because someday they’ll be gooooone like MY Mom and MY Grammy and… and… and why can’t we all just get alooooooong and be happy and be the family that we should beeeee….”

Yeah. I had a great big ol’ pity party for poor Laura. Sitting on the toilet in the water closet because I didn’t want Calvin to know what a big damn baby I was being.

(Hi, Calvin.)

I gave up on trying to snap out of it and went to bed before Calvin. He gave me a lovely warm hug and made me feel a bit better, earlier in the evening, but if I try to stuff feelings back down before they’ve run their course, well, let’s just say it doesn’t work all that well. So I gave him a kiss goodnight and gave up the ghost (though I recall being woken up shortly thereafter by Calvin’s “WOO! SIX POINTS!” as the Cards pulled ahead of San Francisco and won the game).

I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror and was greeted by a puffy face and red eyes, and was all, “Well, that’s attractive.” I still feel that sensation at the back of my throat that tells me I could tear up again with little provocation. Which just gets me annoyed at my own damn self for being such an emotional creature. Because, other than what I wrote about above, there’s really nothing wrong.

I’m going to bury myself in my work today, and the administrata that is the summation of my life, and get myself straightened around before I go home tonight. Otherwise I’ll just burst into tears as soon as I see Calvin, and be all, “I neeeed a huuuuuuug!”

Actually, I DO need a hug. And he’s working far away today, so no lunch for us. Le sigh.

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Comments
  1. Jen says:

    u do know that hugs are availble for free 4 cubes down from you?

  2. Taoist Biker says:

    And available for rent at perfectly reasonable rates only a few thousand miles farther away?

    I know it’s foolish to apply logic to emotional problems, but all I can suggest is that you remember that the necklace was a symbol of two great loves (of home and of Calvin), and the loss of the symbol in no way affects that love. That ain’t so fragile.

    (The Cards pulling it out won me my football pool for the week. $10, woo!)

  3. Kim says:

    I too am an unabashed cryer. When my movie club formed a few years ago when we lived in Florida, I warned them: There are going to be certain movies where I will cry. A lot. Luckily most of the movies we watched were at my friend’s house instead of at the theater, because yes, my warning came through. A lot. They knew when to expect to have to stop the dvd player so I could have a cry break without disrupting the movie. Fun.
    I can also relate to losing sentimental jewelry from my husband. Mine was my 100-year-old 3rd generation ENGAGEMENT RING that belonged to Brian’s great-grandmother. It survived all that time, then give it to Kim and she manages to lose it after three years. That was five years ago and it still hurts to even talk about it. Brian forgave me, but I’ve never forgiven myself.
    I’m so sorry about your necklace – it just sucks and there’s not much else to say about it.

  4. Amanda says:

    I never really thought of myself as being overly emotional until a few years ago when suddenly I, too, would cry at every sappy commercial, movie, book, song, you name it. Hell, I got teary-eyed reading Taoist Biker’s comment about the necklace.

  5. K says:

    Aww, sorry hun! Great BIG Hugs from the Great North..
    Sorry, if I’m a wee bit cold though!

  6. Heather says:

    Would you like me to call you and sing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ in the little kid voice again?

    And Rockwell? While a nice idea just isn’t real. You know I completely understand what it is like to be without parents and grandparents but we still manage to make the holidays beautiful and special with what we do have. Sometimes even with each other. You ARE the holidays, sweetheart.

    I ruff roo and I’m so sorry about your necklace. I, too, would be heartbroken. After I I lost my Mom, I lost her I.D. bracelet on a trip to Florida and I still mourn it.

  7. Calvin says:

    I did search online but the directory… for Boothbay was not real helpful. I thought we might be able to find the store and order a new one.
    Hey worse case we can get another this summer. Just close your eyes and picture renting a Harley riding up the coast stay a night in a B&B and have beer at McSeagulls:)

  8. Laura says:

    Jen – But what would the neighbors think? 😀

    TB – Thanks, TB, you’re exactly right. And, woot on the $10! I never bet because it would just make me more anxious about the outcome (see: high strung) than I already am.

    Kim – Oooooh, maaaaan, you must have been DEVESTATED losing that ring. I’m so sorry! Tell ya what, you forgive yourself and I’ll forgive myself. Deal?

    Amanda – Aww! HUGGIES.

    K – Fanks! And, hey, put a coat on! 😀

    Heather – Actually, yes I would. I need one to save on my work voicemail so I can listen to it whenever I want! And I KNOW the “perfect holiday” with the “getting along family” is as possible as Keanu Reeves winning an Oscar. Doesn’t make me want it less, though, ya know?

    Calvin – Aww, thanks baby. You tried, and that means a lot. I love you. And YOU’RE NOT GETTING OFF THE HOOK ABOUT GOING TO MAINE NEXT SUMMER. Just so’s ya know. ❤

  9. I call your disorder being “hyper-emotional” and my sife and our recpetionist at work are also included in this group.

  10. crisitunity says:

    I was going to say some combination of what TB and Heather already said – you may have lost the object, but you still have the love, and anyway you did get some time with the object, which is better than none. Also, anyone who says they have a Rockwell family life is kidding themselves. Embrace the dysfunction – that’s the only way to enjoy it.

  11. Jeanette says:

    I certainly know how devastating losing something precious can be. I lost a diamond earring that was my moms and she wore them every day of her life until the day she died. I lost it at the hospital after we had taken them off of her..I’m pretty sure I threw it away with a kleenex. It was so awful I still feel so bad 5.5 years later.

  12. Laura says:

    Electrician – Hmm. I don’t know how to feel about that.

    Crisitunity – Can’t I just ignore it, instead?

    Jeanette – Oh, I’m so sorry about your mom’s earring! How awful. See TB and Crisitunity’s comments, they helped me!

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