You can pick your friends, but you can't...

This weekend I have family in from out of town. Evidently, there was a planned family dinner for last night, but noone bothered to inform me until an hour beforehand so i skipped it. Instead, I indulged myself in several margaritas and got drunk. I think I was trying to wash away the guilt of not going or maybe numb the awkward feeling of showing up late. The margaritas failed me this time. Even at the bar I felt awkward about sitting there, a very out of place feeling, never "a part" of things like I normally do when visiting this particular Mexican establishment.

To add to my downward spiral with my family...today I blew off my cousin, Marc's, 40th birthday BBQ. I, also, blew off the last chance to see and visit my Uncle Dave, who was in town. I don't think I've seen him for a year or two now. Once again guilt, but no matter how much guilt, I cannot get myself to leave the couch or clean myself up. I feel like a dead weight. I wanted to go, but this palpatating weight holds me here in my prison, my safe haven.

I fear what people might ask or say. I don't want someone to comment because I came alone when I told them ahead of time that Mike would be joining me. I don't want to answer questions about my job, it makes me feel lifeless and pointless. I have a super successful sister, a brother with beautiful kids, and another brother who is just starting to embrace adulthood...but i have nothing but myself. I can't handle the family focusing on me, when I don't even know who I am or where I stand right now. I don't have a diversion to talk about. I live alone. My job is less than thrilling. I can brag on Mike, but he won't be there to back it. I feel pathetic.

This evening, Chris and Lisa stopped by and lifted me up a bit...I have a comfort zone with them. Chris' from history. Lisa because there is something soft, always comforting and understanding about her. They helped me fix a few problems around the house. Overall, the two of them just made me feel good and know that even though Chris is the man i divorced, the two of them are a force still there for me...for compassion, understanding and to get me through life some way or another. I'm glad Lisa doesn't want Chris and I to erase our past. She embraces it knowing it made Chris who he is. He is still my key, the one person that even somewhat understands how I got here, lost in space. He holds the past as he stood there and watched me live my hell, and now no longer holds it against me.

Life handed Chris and I lemons, and we asked for tequila and salt. Cheers.