Category Archives: friendship

lost friends

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7

You’ve had a hard day of therapy, so you take yourself to the grocery store for a distraction. It’s usually a good choice. However, today you run into two former friends.

It’s obviously awkward for everyone. They don’t try to hide the Deer-in-the-Headlights look on their face. You say hello. They say hello back with a vacant distant look. You shuffle on as quickly as you can so that everyone can stop feeling awkward.

Afterwards, a part of you hopes for a text or an email from one of them, but, alas, there is none. You finally realize that the friendship is really over.

You drive home, cry a little, and then once you pull into your apartment complex you get out of car and immediately go for a brisk walk. The frozen grocery items can wait while you walk! You turn up the Glee playlist on your iPhone because you need to get the self-defeating thoughts out of your head. You replay “Defying Gravity” a few times, and even “Gives You Hell,” but you feel only mildly better.

The PTSD was too much for them, and a part of you understands. It’s true that they triggered you inadvertently a few months ago, and it was made worse later by one of them. It was The Episode That Made It Worse that was the real breaking point. You realize you’re talking in riddles here, but you can’t possibly relive it again.

You’ll never forget that horrid Winter Dance where you and your partner were on the verge of splitsville. “Billie Jean” started playing, and, for lack of anything else to do, you went on the dance floor to dance by yourself to that horrid song. This short, spunky woman then starts dancing next to you, and says, “Hi, I’m Faith! Doesn’t this suck?” Yes, the dance did suck, and that was the start of your friendship.

You just have to accept that they are gone.

I know that I am not a good friend.

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16

I’ve had the nagging thought for a while that I am not a good friend. Finally, this week, I was able to allow my mind to contemplate that thought, and I’ve come to the conclusion that this is true: I am not a good friend. It certainly is not my wish or desire to be this way. For the longest time I thought I was a very good friend. But the evidence speaks otherwise, and it pains me to admit this about myself.

The first example I can think of concerns my former best friend, Faith. We parted ways this past May. I got triggered from something she said, and then things were made worse when her partner got involved and triggered me further. The whole thing was a hot mess of misunderstanding on all of our parts, but the sad result is that we are no longer friends. I thought we would be life-long friends.

We did apologize to each other via text, and we wished each other a happy birthday when our birthdays came around in September. But she is not open to restarting our friendship. I can only guess why, but I think it’s a pretty good educated guess on my part. I think the whole experience has her scared of being my friend, scared of inadvertently triggering me again. I can understand that. It’s painful, but I understand it, nonetheless.

I also tend to disappear on people. It frustrates me that I do this. It seems like it’s some sort of dysfunctional defense mechanism. Sometimes I disappear because I am not doing well, and I don’t want to scare a friend with how I’m doing, and other times I disappear if I sense that I’ve scared them or burdened them. Then there are times that I disappear for no discernible reason. It perplexes me probably as much as it perplexes them.

The end result is that I am alone a lot of the time. I do have friends, but I am especially careful not to tax them or get too close. Screw it. I’ll admit it. I’m lonely, plain and simple.

But then I have days like I had this week where I felt so dissociative that I felt like I was walking through huge swaths of cotton, and it just solidified my idea of how I’m not fit for friendship.

It would be fab if I could have real friends, a serious relationship, children … or at least one of those. But those things feel like they are not for me as I am too sick, too unwell. I’m stalling at what I really want to say: too mentally ill.

My dream: a best friend, a dog, a child and a relationship. At this point, just one of these would make me happy.

Finding Sabrina

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10

I found another peep, another alter … and I am scared.

She’s a problem, and her name is Sabrina.

I’ve been aware of Sabrina’s behaviors before now, but it occurred to me this weekend that everything I’ve observed makes up an alter. I always thought I was just crazy in another form. Now at least I know what form of crazy I am.

While sitting during an acoustic jazz concert I became aware that she was trying to tell me her name. I should probably stop going to concerts because I find that I dissociate or switch during them. I’ve no idea why, and it’s vexing because I enjoy live music.

It became a battle between Beatriz and Sabrina.

I won in the end, but I lost time afterwards, then fell asleep. But at least I didn’t do what Sabrina wanted. I’ll just say it would have been a backwards step, a slip, a let-down.

Sabrina wanted Jack, but Jack is my friend. We managed to get home without disastrous moves.

I’m exhausted from the experience.