As I said before, I am a bad friend …

It has taken me five days to compose this post. That’s how hard it’s been to write about this.

In a previous post I recounted the ways in which I am a bad friend. Well, I had a revealing conversation today that gave more evidence of that. A friend of mine asked me how my Memorial Day weekend was, and she could tell it was not a good weekend for me. I told her that it was a hard weekend because I found myself recounting previous Memorial Days when she and I were closer, and I missed it. I then went on tell her that I felt she and the rest of the group of friends abandoned me when I really needed them.

She then shocked me by telling me that was not the case, that she, in fact, called me frequently during the time after I had my traumatic incident. She then went into detail about lengthy conversations we had on the phone, and I recall none of it. She has no reason to lie to me, and she gave too many details for it to be a lie. Plus, it’s not like her to tell anything but the truth.

And in that vein, of always telling the truth, while I was still grappling with the fact that she did, in fact, keep in contact with me, she called out the elephant in the room. She said to me, ” You never visited after my son was born. You only held him once. You disappeared as soon as my son was born, and I never understood why that happened.”

So there it was, just like that, she called it out. After nearly 5 years of walking around the elephant one of us finally called it out. I decided to go with it, and tell her after all this time why I did what I did.

Nearly five years ago I hit rock bottom. I was drinking and carelessly putting myself in unsafe situations. This behavior culminated in a sexual assault from someone I knew, and that person held a job in high esteem. My friend says that I she and I had long conversations about this attack where she implored me to report it. I do not recall these conversations, but the fact the she knew so many details indicates that we did have these conversations. I can only attribute my memory loss to my DID.

Shortly after my assault my friend adopted a newborn baby. My hitting rock bottom and crawling into the rooms nearly dovetailed with the arrival of her son. And I couldn’t deal, couldn’t and wouldn’t go see the baby. All of a sudden I had an aversion to her baby. It flummoxed me because I love babies. But I could not come near this baby without getting twitchy and freaked out.

The baby was not at fault for my body’s reactions. My friend was not at fault for my body’s reactions. Although I knew that, I was powerless to change my reactions. I could not function around this poor child, and found myself avoiding going to her house to see him. I avoided this new lovely child because of the reaction my body had around this precious being. But the fallout was my friendship with this person whom I cherished. That friendship took a very bad hit, and then, eventually, the friendship was no longer alive. There were no words exchanged about it, it just became a long goodbye.

Now it is all out in the open, and the realization of the impact of my conditions on friendships has hit me hard. I have a better understanding as to why I’m largely alone. It’s hard to swallow, but it makes sense.

Wrong

For nearly 20 yearsI was afraid of him.

 

I hid from him,

took great pains to not have my name in that thing they call the Internet.

Alas, he still found me

on that stupid thing called Facebook.

 

When I left,

I left because I was scared.

A voice told me I had to leave.

“Go now!”

It said.

“Get out!”

 

So I did.

I packed in one night,

only books, clothes, a zester and a salad spinner.

 

For nearly 20 years, I said I ran from a bad man.

I was convinced of it,

Convinced I did the right thing.

 

But then one peep started talking to me,

telling me he was okay.

 

It started with a whisper,

“He’s safe. He IS safe.

Talk to him.”

 

I ignored it,

but the whispers would not yield.

 

Finally, I gave in

And found him on that Internet.

 

And I was wrong,

Wrong about everything I believed.

 

All those years ago,

We did not know

I had DID.

 

My dear sweet love was having a hard time all those years ago.

He left the only job he had ever known.

There was despair and a hole in his heart in a life without that job.

 

He would hole up in that room all by himself,

and not say a word.

Just play his video games

and grunt my way.

 

One day I had enough of no talk.

He had a bowl of popcorn cradled in his arm.

He gave me a scowl and cower as I walked in.

I popped that bowl of popcorn straight in the air

and it rained popcorn on our despair.

 

A peep I didn’t know I had was scared,

and wanted to run.

My husband’s despair was a reminder of woe

the peep felt in the scary house of long ago.

 

This was not the same,

but how were we to know?

 

When I left he cried

and asked me not to go.

 

I left, and did not turn back.

 

Nearly 20 years later,

I turn back.

 

Now, I cry,

and ask him not to go.

Last night was scary for Letty

Hi guys,

I’m at lunch with Beatriz. Last night was scary for us. It’s very very cold here, and I got scared that we would not have a place to live. Beatriz’s mom used to yell a lot about losing the house and not having a place to live if we did not have enough money. I used to get very scared of that happening when it got cold outside.

I called Dan, Beatriz’s friend. He figured out it was me, and not Beatriz, but he was ok with that. He asked me why I didn’t say at the beginning that it was me. I told him that I didn’t want to scare him, and he said I didn’t have to worry about that. He also said we would never be homeless, and that even if that happened that we could live with him. But he said that he doesn’t ever see us becoming homeless because Beatriz has a job.

I hope he is right, and I wish my brain believed what he said.

Scared Letty – 10 years old