Tag Archives: friendship

I don’t pretend

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13

vintage bridal shower invite

I don’t pretend. It’s a gift and  curse rolled into one. I received one bridal invitation, and I am anticipating a second one soon for another person. The two gals, Anita and Anastasia are the brides-to-be. I work with both of them. Anastasia and I are not close at all. We’ve never been kindred spirits. We pretty much keep to ourselves and our own crowd.

However, Anita and I used to be very good friends. In fact, she was one of the first people I opened up to about my sexual assault four years ago right after it happened. Unfortunately, she was less than a friend about the whole experience. Her first words to me were, “I’m sorry, but I can’t handle this.” These words were devastating to me, and it took me a couple of years to understand that there was a very personal reason for her that caused her to respond this way that had nothing to do with me. I can now understand and respect a person feeling this way. What made it worse was the fact that she carried on after that as if nothing happened with me. She would not ask me how I was doing, and as soon as she realized I was no longer the “fun girl” I used to be she moved on and out of our friendship. We’ve tried to mend this fence, but we’re left just feeling awkward around each other. We have no ill will towards each other, but we also no longer have the friendship kind of love that used to connect us.

My point is that I won’t be attending either bridal shower. My logic is that I am not friends with either one. Some of my friends think I should go, especially since I work with both of them. Screw that! I don’t play politics. I don’t do obligatory crap, and I don’t pretend.

I pretended for so long in my life, and it’s no longer in my bones to pretend. I pretended to care about my parents long after the love had died, and it ate at me. I pretended to be fine while I drank and had sex addictively, so much so that those addictions played a part in my sexual assault.

There is no more pretending. I am not an actress. I am me, and the beauty and upside of that is when I tell I love you, and that you mean a lot to me in my life you know it is true and real. When I hug you and greet you warmly, and ask you how you are doing you know that it is real and sincere. You never have to wonder if I mean what I say.

I don’t pretend.

(Photo credit: lulubrooks)

Pull those weeds!

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5

Garden Weeds

The floatiness came upon me when I woke up this morning, and it would not leave. It stayed like an unwanted guest. All day I felt like I was walking in swaths of cotton. I texted my friend Jack, and he had an idea, or at least I thought he had an idea:

Jack: Come over and weed my garden. It’s therapeutic 🙂

Me: Ok. I’ll come over after dinner around 7.

Jack: Seriously? I was kidding, but you’re welcome to weed if you like.

I had not weeded a garden for decades. My grandmother’s garden was the last garden I ever worked in, and “worked in” is putting it loosely. I puttered in there, and she worked.

As soon as I arrived, I dove right into pulling those damn weeds. The earth in my fingernails felt real and grounding. I pulled those weeds, and after a while, I was pulling my mother’s hate, her wrath, self-loathing, and rage. I pulled as if I was pulling those demons out. I would still be out there pulling, but night fell, mosquitoes came, and my body hurt. I think I have dirt in my teeth, but the floatiness is gone.

(Photo credit: Auntie P)

The pool

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7

swimming pool

The pool scares me. I just stare at it, and dip my toe in, while I try to figure it out.

My particular pool is a new friendship. I don’t get a lot of social invitations. Between my PTSD and depression, I’ve not socialized on any grand level in a long time. I do get out to see friends, but only a choice few, and not on any regular basis.

Jack is a new friend. He was originally a match.com date where we both mutually decided we weren’t right for each other. Then, shortly thereafter, he asked me via email  if I was interested in a friendship. In that moment I remembered asking Carlene in girl scouts if we could be friends, and she just gave me this uncomfortable look. In that moment when I read Jack’s email I thought to myself, “The rules changed? It’s ok to ask for friendship? Where have I been?”

I was invited over for dinner, and you would have thought my elation meant I had been asked to the ball. Something as seemingly pedestrian as a dinner invitation does not come around very often for me. When I was actively alcoholic I was known as the “fun girl” and I had plenty of social invitations, but the transition into sobriety has not been smooth socially. There’s no other way to say it. It’s been lonely.

We made dinner, and talked. We really talked, not just news, weather and sports bullshit which bores me.

I enjoyed his company, but I didn’t want to like it too much. I think I’ll stay in the shallow part of the pool for now.

(Photo credit: freefotouk)