To Hell and Back

I have seen hell. Today, I, and my precious family, went to a birthday party at a family fun party place (a bit like Chuck E. Cheese, minus the lame mechanical musical show), a.k.a. hell.

Let me explain. First of all, though I love my darling children to pieces, and even like them, I generally don't like children. But, you may not know that I also suffer from S.O.D.. It is a self-diagnosed and self-named condition. The acronym translates to: Sensory Overload Disorder. Need I say more?

I was playing it cool for over an hour, staying clear of the lights, game noises and most of the kids. I was in the adjoining room where party goers eat and open gifts in a blurry fury. Then my baby girl got bored. All the other kids had gone into game room and she was left to play with straws or stare at the dazed parents. It was time. I felt the responsibility of acknowledging my husband who was keeping track of our energized boys.

My baby was mesmerized by the flashing lights and spinning games. I indulged her. It wasn't long though until she seemed hopped up on the sensory overload. Then I could no longer ignore my own condition. Even though I seemed calm and collected on the outside, I knew I was on the verge of losing it. "Ding, Ding! "Tick, click tick..." Running kids. Roving lights. "Mom, mom, look at this!" Tokens changing hands, sliding into hungry slots. Games on and off. Lights flashing. Tickets spewing out of consoles. Baby kicking, whining....

I was in hell. I'm certain, this is what my hell would look like (minus the loved ones).

I wish I can say I was able to leave immediately. Not. It took another 45 minutes for the kids to use the rest of their tokens, exchange them for cheap toys that would break during the car ride home, re-adorn coats and shoes. But finally, I escaped. As soon as I exited and the door closed behind me, the oppression lifted. I could breathe. I demanded a calm and quiet car ride home.

I survived my trip to hell, and it is good to be back.