Second Chances

Last year, everything was a mess.  Well.  I was a mess.  I was an emotional wreck after DDay and I was a physical wreck needing to have a disc removed from my spine.  Most days I could walk - but not all.  I couldn't reach my feet, and some days couldn't even feel one of my feet.  My doctor and the physical therapist were both on edge about "get thee to a hospital if..." because of where the nerve damage was occurring and certain symptoms could mean Very Bad Things if I ignored them.
In any case, this meant I was on the bubble about certain volunteer opportunities.  I have LOVED my "job" within the group where I volunteer.  I have enjoyed working with youth, and mostly tolerated working with the adults.  Last year, I had the chance to step up and run Day Camp - except - I had JUST had surgery the month prior to training.  I could not sit for more than 15 or 20 minutes at a time.  My body still complains in painful ways if I sit for more than half an hour straight.  I opted to simply volunteer to help at camp but I did not offer to take the training.  I physically wasn't up for it. 
Even though I volunteered at day camp and learned a LOT about the "behind the scenes" of camp, I still always had this itching feeling that I let people down by not signing up as director.  I hate disappointing people. 
Another opportunity arose where I could be on staff to train other adults in a training I myself had gone through in 2009.  It was an exciting opportunity and I gladly jumped on board - with stipulations to accommodate some of my physical restrictions.  Physically, I think I was doing "okay" enough to do it, but I fell apart emotionally/mentally after just a few meetings.  I started to feel like if I had never volunteered for anything then I could have been *watching* my H and then the A would never have happened.  In short order, I blamed the entire A on my volunteer work, and started resenting the fact that I was "doing it again" by volunteering to be a trainer for this.
At any rate, I bailed.  Yes, I quit.  I felt so bad and literally made myself sick trying to make the decision, but in the end I wrote to director and told him that I felt that not only does every youth deserve a trained leader but every leader deserves an enthusiastic trainer - which I couldn't be at that point in time.  After that, I don't know what happened.  I assume they either didn't need me or else found someone else to fill in.  I didn't hear of anything earth shattering happening so in spite of my own anxieties of backing out, I guess it was no big deal in the end.
So... here we are, now.  More than a year post DDay.  Things are going ok for H and I.  We have some very hard days, still, but they are different than before.  Now, they are mostly about regressing back into bad relationship behaviors or about triggers that bring up past pain. 
I realize now that H's A had nothing to do with me volunteering.  Volunteering "all the time" was a symptom of the underlying problems, it wasn't the cause.  I was so miserable and unfulfilled at home and frustrated, angry, and resentful that H would do nothing about it.  He refused counseling.  He avoided talking to me about problems.  He constantly was living this "other" life - even before the A.  Every effort I made was met with resistance.  "We're fine.  Everything's fine," he'd say.  Even though *I* didn't feel fine.  (And clearly, neither did he.)  When I was busy with other things, I didn't worry so much about how unhappy I was at home, so I just stayed busy all of the time to sort of numb the pain.
Now that things are better and we're working on things, I have felt regretful about backing or not being able to volunteer in the ways I had wanted last year.  I honestly thought, "That was my only chance.  It'll never come again."  Because, well, *I* wouldn't want to re-invite someone to come help out if they'd flaked on me before, ya know?  I regretted closing a door forever on something I think I really would have enjoyed, even though it just wasn't realistic for me to take either opportunity at the time.
15 months post DDay, I'm being granted a "do over" on both counts. 
Last night, I went to the day camp planning meeting.  I was half-hearted in some respects because I really didn't know where I fit in.  Who am I to this process?  I don't have a kiddo going to this day camp - my kids are too old, and in fact will all be on youth staff, so I'm not a "concerned parent".  I don't have a niche - like, I'm not the "arts and crafts" person or the "water sports" person or whatever.  I'm just... there.  It was even more complicated when they introduced another lady as being the new director and were discussing training dates with her.
And then...
The weirdest thing happened.
Without making an already painfully long post longer, let's just say that this other lady said, "I can't go to training this year, but I can go next year."  And I popped in with, "I'll go this year," and everyone heartily agreed that this would be the perfect solution.  Before I left the meeting, I had taken on being the one to run the whole camp. Wait.  What?
And...  Last year's director pulled me aside and said, "Oh, and... they want you to be on staff at WB - wanna be on staff with me?" 
I explained that I had flaked last year and I didn't think they'd want me.  "I want you to," she said firmly, as if that was all that mattered.  "Yeah, well, they would have called me if that were the case."  I came home to both an email and a phone message from the head of staff asking me to join their ranks.
I know that my surgery wasn't the fault of the OW.  She didn't shove my disc out of my vertebrae.  But.  Part of all the pain surrounding that is associated with her, none the less.  I know that she didn't have anything to do with me backing out of being on WB staff - that was ME - my frailties.  My choice.  Yet, the pain associated with it was directly associated with her.  "SHE TOOK THIS FROM ME," I would think in my head.  I realize logically this is nonsense.  But.  Emotionally... it's hard not to think in that vein.  I feel like she took a lot from me, whether she did or not.
It's really nice reclaiming these two things.
I'm scared.  Terrified.  For day camp training I have to spend an entire three day weekend away from H.  I am NOT cool with this.  I feel like hiring a husband sitter. :/  Stupid, I know.  I also know that this is a huge time investment and it WILL take time away from the time we spend together.  WB training is even more time - two three day weekends plus several training and planning days prior to that.  Yikes.  How miscreant would it be to forge an email from H to his mother asking her to visit during some/all of those times? ;)  She'd be an excellent Hubby Sitter. Hah.
I realize that H didn't have to wait for me to go out of town to have an A before.  It's just scary, even if it's not a logical kind of scary. 
I'm also scared for reasons that have nothing to do with the A and H.  What if I'm not good enough?  What if my best isn't going to cut it?  What if I let people down... again?  What if I can't get everything done?  What if what I do isn't what people want?  What if people get mad at me or hate me?  What.  If.  I.  Fail?
At least I have second chances - in all this... day camp, WB, and even my marriage.  A lot of people don't get second chances.  I am trying to stay focused on that and just remind myself that all I can do is try.  I do wish that I didn't have this extra baggage to lug around in my heart when doing all this, though.