In “The Wizard of Oz” movie, The Great and Powerful Oz tells us to ignore the man behind the curtain. Why? Because that charlatan was running the whole show. Until last night, I felt like that person: the real me was scrambling to get through each day while my clone was managing everything just fine on the outside. My friends in book club shattered the Stepford exterior last night because of a slip of my own lip.
The group wrapped up the book discussion and was lingering and chatting over coffee. One member asked me why I wasn’t at a certain Snooty School meeting yesterday, and I quickly replied, “I was in court.” At first everyone thought I went back to practicing law. Then, I had little choice but to reveal most of the ugly truth about what’s going on with Wizard. The group peppered me with hard questions about what happened, what’s going on now, what are we doing to help Wizard, what are we doing to help the younger children, what are we doing to help ourselves, why is Wizard still living at home. I answered everything as fully as I could.
Then the offers of help started pouring in: one woman knows a clinical psychologist in NYC who can shed some perspective. Another woman wrote down the name and phone number of a local neuropsychologist who is supposed to be strict and forthright. Several people offered to watch WT and Moose for a weekend so WineGuy and I can get away to celebrate our 20th anniversary later this month. Belle even offered to take Wizard for the weekend. While I would gladly accept any and all of this help, I know that WineGuy will likely refuse everything. That’s one of the core problems: WG knows Wizard needs serious psychiatric help, but WG refuses to throw out more money on therapy/care/schooling for Wizard. I can see both sides, but I feel completely trapped between them.
A comment I wrote today on a cousin’s Facebook page sums up the situation: instead of trying to make my life more difficult, why don’t you help me? Book club babes certainly tried to last night, and I am grateful. Their actions reaffirmed my belief that you know who your friends are in time of crisis: those who step up to help are your true friends. I am blessed with lots of them. I just never realized it.
“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”
Tales From The Testosterone Zone 
It has never failed to amaze me how being honest about difficult situations always, always, always reveals not only who your true friends are, but also opens you up to potential solutions. Ask, and ye shall receive, right? Even though perhaps not one single answer is THE answer, just considering them can bring you to possibilities you had not previously considered or even knew were options.
Convincing WG that you need a break and letting a friend watch the boys seems to me to be worth the effort.