So why did what should have been a brilliant day for any normal person leave me in tears?
Lovely weather and a barbecue on the beach with a tripod cooking apparatus by Heath Robinson out of Bewitched! Delightful people: Anita Loughrey, Kathryn Evans and Candy Gourlay and then Hanna the Hungarian, plus a batch of assorted great kids. Even a bit of a splosh in the rather refreshing sea. Couldn’t fault it. So how come I felt so low?
The usual suspects: my innate sense of inadequacy and general patheticness. ( Told you you’d want to slap me.)
These are real people persons – oozing genuine warmth and affection for their children. Something of a contrast to my parenting skills. Gorgeous high-achieving but unspoiled offspring. I try to brazen it out about my lot – not an ‘A’ level among them and me a teacher. Ho ho ho. No one is amused.
I’m also shaken by their general talent and interestingness:
- Candy – superb photographer, website designer and published author
- Kathryn – brilliant blogger, belly dancing beauty and funny farmer -with an agent
- Anita – witty, pretty and much published – I’ve even used her resources, for goodness’ sake…
Me. Mmmm. I have life on a plate and I still can’t get my act together.
I feel at sea with people – I don’t get out very often. I try to tell a tale in ordinary conversation but it falls away. People talk about something else because I’m boring. Or I miss the moment and an anecdote that might have been relevant becomes pointless. I try to be assertive: I just sound rude and pushy. What chance have I got at self-promotion in a hostile or indifferent marketplace when I can’t manage to get myself across in such a supportive environment?
Let me be quite clear I am not fishing for compliments, dear friends who read this. (Though, if you insist…) I’m just attempting to be honest in the faint hopes it might help
- others who feel the same
- normal people to understand us oddballs
‘The proper study of mankind is man’, Alexander Pope wrote. Well, I think I might just have a CSE in it. Not brilliant when character is all important to a fiction writer. I expect I must be somewhere on the Asperger’s continuum – and so must Eeeyore and Puddleglum.
“Speaking as an outsider, what do you make of the human race?” as our Dawn, my best friend, put it.