That could have been me...

I met a woman in Al-Anon last week who has stayed in my head. She brought her 2-year-old with her. He sat quietly on her lap the entire time. She came late, even after me. She was from California, and had fake breasts that peaked out under her dress. She sat next to me, and I comforted her several times during the meeting when she cried. Afterward, I spoke with her, and she began to cry again. She told me her husband was out of control and on drugs. He had hawked her diamonds, which from looking at her must have been large. They had 4 homes going into foreclosure next week. She said she thought she had this dream life, with a big house up on the hill, and it was all going very fast. She could be on welfare next week. She had 2 other children. The oldest boy was 11 and giving her a hard time. She had just walked in on her husband with a call girl. She told me she had no boundaries, and she was just OK with it. She started crying more. I looked down at her son, who I felt, should not have had to hear all this, but then where else would he have gone? Another man was there listening as well, trying to give her annoying advice. Trying to fuck her, as far as I was concerned. He was a real loser in a purple shirt. A real fruit loop. He didn't stand a chance, but she was much nicer with him than I would have been. I suppose I held my annoyance pretty well too. She told me that they were at least going to put their house on the market and that everything would be OK then. Wow - this market is terrible, I thought. It's not going to be OK. Then she had to go. I told her to keep coming back. It was hard not to give advice. I wanted to tell her to leave him. I wanted to offer to babysit. I wanted to give her my phone number. But I didn't. I told her to come back, and I have been thinking about her ever since.

That could have been me. That could have been me.

Life is getting better for me, but in many ways I still feel very stuck. I am withholding with almost everyone except for my children. My sister has commented on this before - that they are the only ones that I am able to truly lavish love on. I told her that I would rather they have it, as if my love had limits, and I would run out. I often want to be nicer than I am, but I can't. I hold on to the words that could make someone's day better. The sad thing is that I know this and I still do it. Maybe that is progress, but it makes me feel bad.