Social terrors

Last night I attended the diabetes group social evening. It's been a while since I've been to one of their social evenings and under normal circumstances I would have missed this one as well but for the fact that it was hosted by my friend. Over the last year or so our relationship has really progressed and I'm learning how relationships with other people work in a practical way rather than sitting in a group psychotherapy session. Anyway, I felt sorry for her (empathy, a new experience for me!) as it sounded like she was having to do all the preparation on her own as someone else had let her down.

I knew that if I arrived there early, I wouldn't have to deal with the stress of driving in traffic and not being able to park plus, I could use the amount of time I'd already been there as an excuse to leave early. I'd set myself up with a couple of tasks to do as people arrived so I wouldn't have to stand around chatting to people (social small talk is still a mystery to me and makes me panic) and I found myself racing from door to bar as I let people in and then offered them their first drink. This was quite a big step for me as I'm an alcoholic who's currently dry, but I thought I was in a good enough place to deal with it and I'm more aware of when I'm heading for trouble which is when I would step away from the bar.

Everything seemed to be going fine until it was announced that the food was going to be served. For some reason, I felt my mood crash into my boots and I sneaked off into the garden where I hid for at least half an hour hoping to use the "I'm just having a cigarette" line if anyone said anything. I knew I really should be eating something as I'd not had much all day and my sugar levels were probably dropping quite low but my evil voice wouldn't let me. He kept telling me that I wasn't allowed to eat because I hadn't paid my money (things are very tight at the moment) and if I ate in front of everyone, they would see what a disgusting pig I was and that someone like me shouldn't be eating.

The pathetic child in me took over and accepted the punishment. I wanted to just leave and go home but it meant walking through the house to collect my coat and keys and I couldn't face what seemed like a huge crowd (even though there were no more than 40 people there). Someone did eventually call out to me and ask if I wanted to eat but I just said no, I didn't want to and hoped it would be left at that although I didn't think I could last right to the end as it was cold and damp outside. Fortunately, my friend came out and she realised that I was really struggling (I think the tears gave it away). One of the signs of a good friend is someone who can recognise and understand when someone is on difficulty and who can help put things right. I tried to dig my heels in about not eating but she kept telling me that I really did need to eat and gave me a couple of options for eating on my own so I agreed to come inside and have something to eat.

This helped improve my mood although I lurked in the kitchen for the rest of the evening and ended up tackling the washing up (not something I tend to do at home!) as I'm always happier when I've got a task to do if there are a lot of people around. I ended up surviving to the end of the evening and I'm really glad that there was someone there who understood what was going on and was able to deal with me in a calm manner which works far better than having someone ordering me around or telling me to "grow up".

I have mixed feelings about the whole evening, I was pleased with my ability to deal with people as they arrived and pouring out drinks without being too tempted (thanks to whole lot of CBT and continued medication). However, I was caught out by my reaction to eating in front of people and my fear of being in room full of people and trying to do the social chat so that still needs quite a bit of work. Overall, though, I think I did well and I couldn't have made it to the end of the evening without the care and support of a good friend.