The Last Time I Went to Disney

The last time I went to Disney is the last time I will ever go to Disney.

It's a little bit of a story, so let me tell it because it will be very therapeutic for me to get this out.

My father-in-law, Frank, was dying.  He and my mother-in-law, Ruth, decided to come to Florida between Christmas and New Years', and Frank really wanted to take my children to Disney.  I loved Frank.  He was such a great man, a great Christian, and yes, a great grandfather.  But, as ungrateful as it sounded, I begged them to not do this during the worst week to go to Disney.  I begged Erich.  No one would listen.  So, I canceled Max's birthday party that we had planned for the same day, and I surrendered.

The day started off pretty normal.  We handed the girls over to their Uncle Scott as he has a "Guardian" personality and we knew the girls would get the most from the day by going with Scott in his scheduled and regimental day.

The first thing we did was to stop on Main Street and get coffee.  Max was in the stroller and Timmy was bouncing around.  My in-laws and Erich and several of his cousins thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the outdoor cafe talking and reminiscing.  I remember thinking how much more enjoying it would have been to stay there.

Erich had his "pillar to die on" -- he had to visit the Tom Sawyer island.  So, Erich, Frank, Ruth and I, with Timmy and Max in tow, headed off for that direction.  As we made our way there, we asked directions a couple of times.  Every time we were told, "get there quick so you don't get stuck by the parade."  I don't need to tell you....

We stopped at every kiosk and ride on the way to the island.  And, shocker of shockers, we got stuck.  Oh, not Erich and his parents and Timmy, they weren't pushing a stroller with a sleeping baby and could weave in and out of the crowd faster than I could.  Soon they were gone and I was surrounded by strangers.

Directly behind me there were two couples, one young and one old.  The older woman was in a wheelchair.  While we were stranded on this bridge, on this crowded, claustrophobic bridge, the family behind me decided to entertain themselves with running the wheelchair into the back of my calf muscles.  Bump, bump, bump, the metal foot rests jammed into my calf muscles, bump, bump bump, I asked them nicely to stop, bump, bump, bump, I begged them to stop, bump, bump, bump, I tried to move around Max sleeping in the stroller, but they moved the wheelchair to follow me... bump, bump, bump.  "Okay, that hurts!  Please, please, stop."  They smiled at each other.  I turned back to Max sleeping in the stroller, bump, bump.  Bump.

I was being bullied.  No one around me.   I was so upset that I began to have tunnel vision and to hyperventilate.  At 4'11" I could see nothing but shoulders.  I could yell for security if I could find my voice.  I could grab Max out of the stroller and make a run for it, leaving the stroller behind. 

This happened years ago and I woke up this morning with an anxiety attack again because a dream reminded me of it.  I can still feel the metal jamming over and over into my legs.  I still feel them smiling and joking about hurting me.

Just when I was about to scream and totally lose it -- making me the freak -- the parade ended and the traffic broke free.  When I found Erich and his family their attitude was "shake it off" but here I am still unable to shake it off.  I parked the stroller where there was no one else, sat down on the cement and refused to move. 

Bullying is empowerment.  Everything about a bully is animal ignorance and everything that entertains a bully must involve a weaker person.  That bully family still has power over me today because I could not escape.  While I have no doubt about how infinitely more intelligent I am than them, there was nothing I could do to break through to their savage sense of humor.  I wouldn't trade places with any of them, not even for those horrible minutes, but it is they who have power over me.

Well, there it is.  Journaling and blogging has helped me so much through different events of my life.  As I write this out, I continue to remind myself that I'm safe and comfortable sitting here, hopefully making those emotions replace the anxiety and helplessness that I felt that day.  That's the very definition of hope.

For me, the "happiest place on earth" will always be that place furthest (mentally if not physically) from Disney World.