No, I'm not uncomfortable to talk to you. I don't know you, and although I'm ashamed, I feel relief in being able to share my troubles.
Well, it's nothing really. It all started last year, when a bunch of boys started to play street hockey in front of my house. They kept on hitting my flowerbeds with their sticks and rolling over my lawn with their inline skates. And they played every evening, night after night, until it got dark, 10 PM or later. Now we live in a cute little strata that has no traffic, and my house just happens to be in front of this cul-de-sac, plus we're on a little slope too, so if a ball rolls astray, it'll end up in my yard. Plus, the hockey balls/pucks kept on hitting my car that was parked there. I tried everything to end this. I even bought softer play balls for all the kids and distributed them, I tried to make them understand that they should not use their sticks to fish the balls out of my flowers, and that the should be careful with their skates and not JUMP into my lawn, but nothing helped. The strata wasn't helpful either. And the worst "offender" was a boy that doesn't even live here, he lives down the street on another property. Yet he was always there, and because he's older than the others, he kept on staying late. My living room windows face their "play area", so there was no chance for me just to ignore it. One evening I finally confronted him and told him that this was a private property, and if he had been invited by someone else to play it was ok, but if he was playing by himself, it wasn't and he should go home and play in front of his own house and people wanted their peace and quiet after dark. He said that he didn't care about what I said and that he was allowed to play here as much as he wanted and that he wasn't afraid of me. I didn't know what else to say. I disappeared with the tail between my legs. I had really tried to be friendly, and I wasn't prepared for a backtalk like that. After that, my husband talked to him, but that didn't help so much either, and not even when the strata issued a letter about playing in the street which my husband delivered to his father. But suddenly, around Christmas last year, he and his dad disappeared. They were gone, from the face of the earth. I couldn't believe it at first, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. And then, about a month ago, they reappeared, out of the blue. He and his dad. Sam is back. And tonight, for the first time in 6 months, he played in front of my house again. I have hung up curtains, thick, black curtains, so I don't have to look outside. But I hear. So I sit in front of my computer with my headphones on so I don't have to hear them laugh and scream. But in my head, I keep thinking about the damage they are going to my garden, and how I can't do anything about it, because he's just a boy. I can't call the police, I already talked to his dad, and there is nothing else I can do. My husband tells me to "chill", my neighbors don't seem bothered, and I just cry whenever I see him. My life is a living nightmare ever since he returned. I am on edge when I see the other children play, which is no fun either, but when he's out there, I'm a WRECK. How many Xanax do I have to take to get a "happy feeling"? I'm afraid to try.
You know, I don't know if I have a real social phobia. Ask me to speak in public, and I'm thrilled. I love to hold a speech, I always have. I can talk to my boss, or complete strangers, and they find me charming and interesting. But I hated children all my life. I think it might depend on the fact that I was a pretty chubby girl when I was little, and the kids were really cruel to me back then. I hated childhood, and I always felt comfortable around adults, but never around children.
I went to a councellor last year, and it didn't help. Then my doctor sent me to a psychiatrist. I saw him once, I hated him, he didn't even listen to what I had to say and then he talked down to me, while handing me a prescription for Paxil. It made me feel miserable. On Wednesday I am going to see a psychologist for the first time, but my insurance doesn't cover it and I'm afraid even if he's going to help me, I won't be able to afford that. And then I am going to be at the end of my rope. My husband refuses to move with me. What can I do other than banging my head against the wall and get drunk???
Sorry, this was long. I hope you had the patience to read all this...
