Blergh.

So, apparently, as much as I try, I'm not as well-adjusted as I try to be.

So, I heard back from the wife of the friend who called me manipulative.

Backstory: When I first learned that he and his family were in the ward, he let me know that (1) she is pretty new to the church and (2) she is uncomfortable around people she doesn't know.

These are good things to know. And how do you get to know people well enough to get comfortable around them? ... Well, spending some time around them or adding them on Facebook at least (so you can get some insight to their character/personality/sense of humor/life) can help.

I met her ONCE in real life. I tried to be friendly, but not overbearing; kind, easy-going ... you know, on my best behavior.

I sent her a Facebook friend request, along with a facebook message letting her know who I am ... some people are better with faces/names ... and letting her know that she could join our (private) Facebook group for playdates and other kids' activities. This way, she can take her kids to something fun AND have a chance to meet up with some other gals from church. Get to know THEM in a low-key environment and all that.

She never took me up on either offer.

When I sent [her husband] the text and facebook message about a possible visit, I also messaged her, too. Since some spouses check Facebook more often than others. Figured I'd cover my bases.

When I heard back from [her husband], I should have just sent another message ... something like "Oh, never mind! Heard back from your husband. Maybe a visit another time ... or meeting up at a park or something another time!"

... But, well, I didn't do that.

So, last night, I got a message back from her which basically said

1. I hardly know you
2. Don't invite yourself over 
3. Don't message me again

.... .... ....

In my defense, I never said that I was the one coming over. Just that I needed to know if that date/time would work for a visit.

Yes, she hardly knows me. Because she never made any effort to get to know me. I understand that people are busy and stuff. But, heck, I've met people through blogging or friends-of-friends through Facebook. Doesn't take much effort at all to respond to a message.

Sure, I won't message you again. Doesn't give me any opportunity to apologize or whatever. And I don't LIKE when people think poorly of me. I'm not perfect. Heck, I'm a big screw-up (apparently even more so than I had first thought! Joy!!/sarcasm).

I mean, I can entertain fantasies that someone will drop a letter off to them telling them that

• I was just trying to help my husband. Since THEY never respond to anyone else's texts, calls, stopping by.
• I was not going to be a part of the visit. Michael and the Stake President (most likely) were. So I wasn't going to invade their INNER SANCTUM OF SOLITUDE or whatever.
  (Geez, it's not like we're living high on the hog. We have five people, a cat, and two fish crammed into a two-bedroom manufactured home. One that is rather cluttered and all. It's never going to be featured in Better Homes and Gardens or House Beautiful or anything.)
• And they don't have to take the opportunity to get to know me (better in the husband's case, since it's been a while) ... and, with that, they're missing out. 

• Because I can be really nice. I can bake. I can make jokes (often self-depreciating!). I can whip up a decent card in MS Publisher. But, hey, if you're not willing to give me a chance, I need to get over myself. Because I need to realize that it's not worth fretting over ... and my energies can be better utilized in other things ... on people who actually appreciate what I'm trying to do.
• AND, if you DON'T want visits or calls or whatever from your Home Teachers, Visiting Teachers, or anyone, you need to stop blowing everyone off for months, put on your big-kid panties, and ask to be put on the Do-Not-Contact list. We'll respect that. It'll make it easier on those trying to serve you AND it'll make it so that you're not bothered by people who just want to serve you or get to know you or have concern for you. Because we don't want to be a bother. 

Yeah, I'm cycling through frustration and dejection.
Since apparently, I suck at dealing with rejection, too. FUN FUN!! Issues are the BESTEST!!
(In case you were wondering, that was complete sarcasm right there.)

I  do admit that I harbor some fantasies that [the husband] will someday be all, "Allanna, I was a jerkbuttface when you were just trying to help out your husband and show that you care. I shouldn't have done that. You up for a game of Spastic Uno?" or [the wife] will initiate a message on Facebook or something.
Or that they just forget about this ... awkwardness.

Because it sucks, knowing that someone is upset because of you.

Can I hope that they just have some issue in their brains that they are already over this? And it's just me obsessing over being thought of as having less-than-perfect manners?

Any ways to learn (at 33, I'm so old!) how NOT to let other people's judgements be felt so keenly?

'Cause I'm totally in the market for some kind of non-accredited course like that. TOTES.

Oh, well. Imma go and contact the gals that I Visit Teach. Because, at least, THEY like hearing from me and know that I'm not a complete buttmunchjerkwad. In fact, 3/4 of them totally know that I'm good to have around in a pinch. We can sit and chat and laugh. That other one, at least, knows that I care for her and genuinely LIKE her (she's great. I know her from Girls' Camp, when she was in YW [Young Women's, the 12-18 year-old girls' group]).

Yeah, stuff like this just sucks. I hate feeling/knowing that I screwed up ... especially when I have the best of intentions. Because, dang it, I'm personally invested in this family that (apparently) thinks that I'm an overbearing jerk. How can we HELP them at all --effectively --, if we don't know their needs?

Well, there's prayer. And, oh, if that's the only tool we have, it's GONNA get USED.

Well, at least I can try to content myself with the knowledge that I know, his mom knows, Michael knows, the bishop knows, my mom knows, and Heavenly Father and Jesus know that I was trying to do something right. Something good.
And maybe they're not ready to accept it as that. But, eventually, they'll get that. And they'll know that I was just trying to be nice and helpful and having their best interests (along with helping Michael, who's -- face it -- a bit of a higher priority, y'know) at heart.

So, yeah, it makes me sad that they took it this way.
But I can't MAKE them ... do anything.
As Detective Lestrad would say, "Not my department!" (That's a BBC Sherlock reference, in case you were terribly confused.)

And, yeah, I'm hoping (as I'm sure that MICHAEL'S hoping) that this is my last post about this ... unless something absolutely miraculous happens and I can report some good news about this whole fiasco.

But, until I'm over it, I might as well just hash it out on "paper" ... It's therapeutic, right? Cathartic, at least. Either that or making some serious bread, so that I can KNEAD it and BEAT it quite a bit.
Or else I should just get on the elliptical (like I should do anyways) and watch some trash TV (Toddlers and Tiaras? Honey 2? Sharknado?). Or get some paints and hash things out on paper (but, well, that might be frustrating for me. Things never turn out how I see them in my head. Which is ... frustrating. But, well, it'd give me something ELSE to be frustrated at, right?).

Honestly, I'm rather jealous of people who don't live nearly completely inside their heads. It must be really freeing to escape from thoughtsthoughtsthoughts all the time. At least, when I read or if I'm acting, I get to escape from MY thoughts and into someone else's. It's nice.
But I've never gotten to that place when dancing or (attempting at) running when your mind can go blank and you're just sensation moving through space. Is that what an endorphin high feels like?
I wouldn't really know. Oh well.

Like I said, "blergh."

And where can I buy origami paper locally? Because that could take my mind off things. It requires focus. And ends up with something pretty. Heck, maybe I could make a cool paper-crane mobile for the kids' room. Or over my desk.
Screw it, I'm going to look up one on Pinterest.

(Aaaaaand, as I say that, all I can think of is George -- "This place is a tomb! I'm going to the nut shop, where it's FUN." Yay for random movie quotes.)