Are You Feeling Me?

I’m on a rushed walk with a friend of mine, and we are both venting about various things when I realize I’ve asked her too many times, “Ya know what I mean?”  She always responds with, “Yes… sure!” or a gentle nod of the head, but she’s a super-agreeable pal.  I've been talking for a solid 5 or 30 minutes so I pause, going over the conversation in my mind and note how I've sounded like I’ve been asking for her approval the entire time I’ve been talking about my "no-brainer" decision to take a new job.

Over the past few years, I’ve become more aware of how often I ask friends and family if they’re GETTING me.

I once read, several years ago, people who frequently use the words “Ya know?” / “Do you know what I mean?” in conversation come across as timid or weak and longing for validation.  Especially as a woman, never, ever use these conversational fillers—you’ll give the person with whom you are speaking the upper hand.  I believe I read that message in a business journal of some sort while waiting in a dentist’s office because they didn’t have any new issues of People or US Weekly (the only place I can read about George Clooney and David Letterman's bromance).  The article really irked me because I knew I was the prime audience the author had in mind so it has stuck with me all these years.  (But obviously hasn't done much to reduce my inane conversational fillers)

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt an intense [lil’ bit insane] desire to be understood.  It began with needing that nod from my parents and my dog (I’m sure if I had a sibling, he/she would have been subject to my interrogations on whether or not I was making my point clearly enough).  My dog ALWAYS got me, btw.

As I got older, however, I needed my best friends to really FEEL what I was going through… “He said he’d call as soon as he got back from his ski trip, but my phone hasn’t rung, and I KNOW he is back.  I saw his car in the driveway!  I wasn’t stalking his house though… I just drove by on my way to Baskin-Robbins to meet you.  I’m feeling like he just didn’t miss me as much as I’ve missed him.  Ya know?  I’m even re-thinking the Christmas gift I bought him because it might be over-the-top.  Do you think an ID bracelet is just too much for a couple who’s been together for only 4 months?  I kinda feel like it is now.  It's sterling silver.  Maybe I should have just stuck with the rugby shirt from Britches.  Ya know?  Do you know what I mean?”

UGH.

Okay, we already know all teenagers want to feel accepted and understood by their friends.  It’s why my 14-year-old listens to music he doesn’t even like, buys $18 “hair butter” and punches his buddies in the arm if they misquote him on hockey stats.  But now I’m a real, live grown up (mostly) and I still find myself wanting my closest friends to know exactly how I’m feeling about certain topics or know just what it means to live in my house or how it reeeeeally feels to be divorced when never-in-a-zillion-years you would have guessed you’d be a single mom raising two kids alone.

As it turns out, this desire to be heard and understood isn’t unique to women or timid folks or needy teens—it’s a universal trait of human beings.  Whew, right?!  

Oprah Winfrey talked about it a few years ago in a commencement speech at Harvard, saying the one thing all of her interviewees (over 35,000 people) had in common was the desire to have made themselves heard properly, meaningfully.  The first questions to her after an interview always being, “Did that sound okay? Did what I say mean something to more than just me?”

So now, as an adult, life has gotten even stickier and messier than teenaged life (if you can believe) and for those of you who have not hit the messier-than-teen-years point, I salute you (and I gently urge you to tighten your seatbelt, just in case).

The messy thing I find myself wanting my close-others to understand most about me and my family today is what it is like to have a chronic disease.  Specifically, what it is like for all three of us to have neurological Lyme.

In one of my Lyme Info Groups on Facebook, a young girl posted this question this morning:  

"I need advice.... One of my friends seems to be not understanding my circumstances with having lyme disease. My friend said "Shouldn't they have fixed it by now or have it cured, it's been over a year" or "you're walking in school right now aren't you?" She said that I shouldn't let this disease ruin my life and she said that when her mother had cancer, she still went to work and fought it. How do I explain to her? Everyone at my school thinks I'm skipping and the school itself doesn't understand. How do I explain myself?

I get bullied by my teachers. By my classmates. Everywhere. They see me as a faker and a pretender."

My heart breaks wide open when I read comments like these, and I give thanks my son's school just approved his half-day schedule as he undergoes a more rigorous Lyme treatment and sleeps for up to 15 hours a day.  I thank God my daughter's teachers, administrators, counselors, and teacher assistants handle her gently.  Many have actually read numerous articles on what chronic Lyme is like for children and what PANDAS can do to a child's brain.

I responded to this sweet girl who came to FB seeking understanding with the empathy of a mother/fellow Lymie/ mother of Lymies, and the protective FB community rallied around her with “You are not alone”s and beautiful scripture verses and song lyrics and terrific quotes and positive energy.  One of our online friends pointed her in the direction of a teen FB group for kids with Lyme disease.

She responded later:  

"It makes me feel happy knowing that I [am not] the only one going through this problem. I have hopes to raise awareness.  If you go on my Facebook page, there is a video that I made. Its public so you guys may watch it. It is of me standing up for myself."

Just a little validation from some internet pals gave this awesome teenager the strength to push through the pain of Lyme, of being bullied by TEACHERS for heaven's sake!  When we know someone understands what we are going through, the world is a much less frightening place to live, isn't it?

I talk to Jesus a LOT.  He really gets me.  And I'm also lucky enough to have a handful of friends who have stuck by me through these "hermit years."  These past 6 or 7 years when I've been sleeping, caring for sick kiddos, resting up for the next fall-out, working, researching online, and, basically, unavailable at all times.  They may not know the names of the co-infections we're battling or the exact definition of Lyme exhaustion (my son says it shouldn't be called chronic fatigue, but better described as all of your internal organs and bones turn to mush, but your brain is saying GET UP--YOU'RE MISSING LIFE but you can't move).  My parents have seen first-hand what Lyme can do to a family, and my kids and I thank our lucky stars for those two sticking around.  But those buddies who continue to show up through texts and phone calls, who invite us over for dinner even though they know we'll probably be going to bed by 8:30, who travel far distances to just TALK face-to-face... I consider myself truly fortunate to have that handful of true-blues who cannot really understand my weird life, but don't have to in order to love me.

However, I've lost a lot of potential friends because the saying is true:  To have a friend, you must BE a friend.  You must spend time together creating stories, making music and acting silly.  But when you are constantly immersed in ServeViving, you don't have much time or energy left over to be a great pal to many people.  Even to parents.  I wish I had more time to give my parents.  I wish I was still that talented friend who mailed the birthday card right on time.  Now I don't know what day it is, much less remember to buy the card.

Nevertheless, I am hopeful the day will soon come when my kiddos and I are healthy and Lyme is understood by the majority of the medical and general population.  Not many can relate to resting up for 12 hours to do laundry, teach Sunday School, fertilize the lawn or attend a party, but then paying dearly for it later.  Some will think you're lazy or an introvert or just plain weird, when all you're trying to do is survive with dignity and keep some fresh make-up on...

...but I'm beginning to realize as long as YOU know who you are, how hard you work, how deeply you love, and one or two special humans hold your hand and listen... you can start collecting tiny pebbles of joy in mason jars again, aware that being fully understood by someone is rare and precious and sometimes only happens a few times in one's life.

Not everyone needs to GET me.  I realize that now.  And I'm going to vow to be a better, more genuine listener than I am a desperate talker from here on out.  Starting NOW.

So talk to me.  (And you know what I mean!)