Dear Reader,
I stayed home with our two little ones, who decided that since Daddy was out it was as good a time as any to give me a hard time about going to bed. But this post is not about the frustration that ensued in my attempts to get them settled. When my husband returned later that night, he was beaming. For my husband to beam, that says something. He is not unhappy person, just not an overtly emotional person. I listened as he shared about how the evening unfolded, looked at the few pictures he had snapped and watched his videos. It was nice to see he had had a nice night out. We are both socially awkward. He has never used his Asperger's as a crutch but he will not deny it does blind him to many of the social niceties that exist. My issue stems more from a complete lack of confidence and my issues with anxiety.
After seeing how much fun he had had, I was torn when the suggestion of joining him at the convention the following day was posed. I wanted to go but I was hesitant to agree. So, I took a step back and considered why I was waffling. People. Soooo many people would be there! That alone would do it for me. Have you ever dove under water but took longer to reach the surface than planned? A small panic rises in the back of your mind and it is over before you can completely lose your cool but you still gasp and breathe in deep the open air. Walking through a large crowd is like that for me. I am swimming against the flow of the sea of people, choking and gasping, actually finding it difficult to breathe, only to finally emerge from the worst of it and find open water. Usually it means stepping outside and inhaling deeply.
Still, I have been looking for opportunities to step out of my comfort zone. I could let my insecurities rule me, robbing me of the chance to have fun, or I could agree to go and make the most of a day out with my family. I chose to go. We overslept (ugh) and missed church, so the decision to go was made late in the morning. The kids were just thrilled we were going out, so they buzzed about, getting ready in record time.
The drive was short, parking was mercifully easy to find (albeit a bit expensive) and the convention center was a fairly direct walk from there. We followed the stream of people, some costumed and some not, all the way to the front of the large building, where the stream emptied into the massive sea I had been dreading. There were people everywhere! After picking up our badges, we went into the building itself and I continued to be amazed at the sheer amount of people that had congregated.
We wandered around looking at the booths, including the one my husband's new friend was running and then left to get a bite to eat. It was easy to cross the road. You just followed the herd! It was loud but not as chaotic as some cities I have visited have been. (New York City was a bit of a nightmare for someone like me, although I still count it as one of my fondest memories.) At one point, we passed by a gentleman standing on a box with a megaphone, preaching about hell and salvation. He was loud. Part of me admired his courage but I also wondered whether people really responded well to being shouted at and having tracts thrust as them; the ones guised as money.
After eating, my husband played his ocarina in the park, while our kids played in the dirt and watched the planes taking off from the nearby airport. The park, too, was filled with people dressed up as an array of anime characters, as well as characters from other fandom. We saw a lot of Disney princesses, much to my daughter's delight. She thoroughly enjoyed seeing all the costumes and announced who she would dress up as next time (an answer that kept changing).
Our final activity was returning to the convention center and perusing the booths again, then sitting down so the kids could play and my husband could play his ocarina some more. And then, it was time to file out of the building, walk back to our car and drive home. In the car, I reflected on the day and could feel the anxiety creeping around underneath my skin. I felt wired. I had just spent my entire afternoon, into the evening, wandering around a crowded building. People could not help but brush past you at times, the kids were rolling on the floor, I had to mop pee off of the bathroom floor when my four-year-old did not sit back far enough on the seat and missed the toilet, I was breathing in the shared air of hundreds of people, I had eaten food prepared by strangers...," Breathe, Melissa! Breeathe!"
My husband listened to me apologize about being a freak and he said, "You weren't a freak!" He said he had not noticed my anxieties, which admittedly is usually manifested in growly very irritable. I had hidden it? Wow. I was freaking out a little on the inside, some moments more than others, but as a whole I actually enjoyed our outing. I actually enjoyed my time out! Sure, my mind was whirring all the way home and I wanted to run my kids through some elaborate decontamination sequence, but I had survived without a panic attack! That was incredible and I had to give myself credit for that. Well, more importantly, and it goes without saying because He is just a major part of my existence, but God gets credit too. I do not know if it is wrong to accept some of the credit but I was proud of myself for actually applying some faith to my situation.
Small victories are still victories, and worth celebrating. A day at an anime convention may be a piece of cake for you but it was a hurdle for me to clear and I sailed over it.
Sincerely, Melissa
