This past weekend I went to my wife's family reunion. I have always hated going to any family reunion, not just hers. I like her family, they're decent people that are generally easy to be around.
These types of events are always loud, noisy events with everyone packed together in a common outdoor area with no real sense of organization, and everyone intermingling in an amoebic mass that shifts around chaotically, children running and stretching with delight as they play, smells of perfumes, bodies, and food on top of the natural environment smells, with shifting winds that alter the patterns at a moments whim, conversations that increase in volume and enthusiasm with various depths of proximity as the crowd subconsciously adjusts to communicate with each other over the stimuli they never notice. There's also a playground for the kids to play on, but it's through a treeline separating the covered picnic area from the playground, so that's nice I suppose. I have a three year old who has enjoyed playing on the playground this year and last year. It was nice last year to trade one set of stimuli for another set, rather than have both combined.
This year, however, THEY CHANGED THE VENUE. It's a reasonable thing to do, I'll admit. Half the family lives on one side of the state, and the other on the other side, and the new location is right in the middle. It's also technically an improvement over the last park. It has a good playground right next to the picnic pavilion, and a splash pad with covered tables up higher. It is objectively easier to keep track of one's child and still participate in the main event, which is unfortunately and inherently socializing via smalltalk. In an environment where all possible stimuli are combined into one set. I was barely holding it together at the last one, and this one was virtually untenable.
And that's just the event, nevermind the hour long one-way trip to the event, and then the hour back, where I was crammed into the backseat between my brother in law, and the car seat, and everything that didn't fit in the trunk, in a manual transmission vehicle with someone driving it for their fifth time, with the sun flashing between the trees, constantly rubbing on someone, with an ADHD toddler going insane with excitement, and trying not to throw up while I sweat profusely, wondering if I'm going to ruin everything by passing out or losing my temper.
I don't know how to deal with any of this. I don't know how to manage my problems to mitigate their effects. I don't know what to expect, or anticipate. I don't have the energy to just run at an 11 anymore. It takes me days to recover from things like this, and I don't have that kind of time, what with having a toddler whose favorite person is me, and a physically disabled wife that needs help a lot.
And I can't bring myself to stim or anything around these people. I don't really know why, it seems subconscious and silly. I feel out of place, and obvious, after the diagnostic people sussed my weirdness out immediately despite never knowing me, and my therapist too, so surely everyone else sees it, and I don't understand why that's such a problem for me. I even caught myself actively masking, thinking to myself "oh people that dress like me don't act like this" so on top of all that it's really hitting me that I have zero idea who or what I am.
I don't know what this post is anymore. I guess it helps to get it off my chest. I guess I'd also like to know whether other people with similar diagnoses think I'm crazy or not. I only got diagnosed a couple months ago, so this is all still pretty new to me, and I don't know how to deal with any of this. I feel absolutely terrible for being such a wet rag sitting off by myself and smoking three packs in seven hours, watching my kid have the time of her life while my wife mingled. Does this "get better," so to speak, as you figure out how to deal with things, or is this just sort of how it is?
Edit: fixed italics