I have obsessed for years over those I have loved and lost. I have gotten angry over the fact that I have been passed off. Moved along from. Some not as painful as others, but still. Was I not good enough? Am I not good enough? In all the pain in my life up to this point, could I have been someone that was not capable of being good for them? Or was our commonality fractured and that was enough to move along?
There are times where I review certain events that happened in my life. Significant ones. And holy shit, does it hurt. Even thinking about one right now sends me sobbing. The moment where my mom is on life support at Marquette General Hospital. I’m in the room by myself with my mom and just as I was about to talk to her alone, for the first time, my uncle Lenny walks in the room. I have always been socially awkward and my mom always had visitors. So, I felt irritable that my uncle picked that moment to come in and stay in. Not that he knew he was irritating me, it just was bad timing. I had so much to say to her. So much pain in my heart. I wanted to beg her to get better, to come back to me. Tell her how much I needed her. Give her a hug, a kiss. And at this moment, I can remember how her skin felt on my lips. It’s crazy about what one thought can give. Phew! Okay, moving on…. Get to the point, Janet!
I have looked at my life to this point and evaluated why it seems like I lack friends. If I am really honest with myself, I have friends. I have a number of friends. And if I am REALLY honest with myself, and you, I am terrified of my friends. And I feel unworthy, as I mentioned in past posts. So, I’ll log onto facebook and I won’t talk to anyone anymore. I go on World of Warcraft and talk to people, but I avoid talking about anything in my life – because the second the game goes from virtual reality where you can pick the hero you desire to being to actual reality infused with virtual reality …. it goes to hell. The virtual world starts to take on painful characteristics. I still miss someone that I used to talk to whose name on WoW was Themerc. Despite how WoW did get reality struck in it, he was a good listener at that time. And he helped me. (Or at least I assume I was speaking with a male… It’s hard to know via type)
My earliest friend was this girl Denise. We have been friends for ages. We had a split for a number of years and we still communicate, but not as much as we used to. Missy came along to fill in the gap where Denise was not available, and a number of other people from the church and what not. Life circumstances happened, my depression diagnoses happened, things changed. I opened doors, shut them, doors got shut on me. Do I have a right to be angry because the door was shut on me? I wanted to keep these friends. If I were to talk to them today, I’d feel awkward because I would feel like either they left me because I wasn’t good enough or that I still wasn’t good enough. Why do I always have this sense that I have to be an elevated “someone” for a friend. That I have to have an accelerated education to matter? Or that friendship is correlated only by commonalities. i.e. You’ll only ever be friends with people who graduated high school. If you didn’t, you’re out!
I suppose my feelings for needing to be good enough is because a lot of what I gave a shit about, I lost. I had a ton of family on my mom’s side that we spent a lot of time together with. When my mom went into the hospital, the closeness left. I don’t blame my dad, I can only imagine the pain he was going through during all of it – but still. I lost my cousins. I lost the time that I could have spent continuing that bonding time. I went to church and met people. I always felt inadequate, but I had friends. When I left church, a majority of those people near and far that went to church with me at the time disappeared. The tremendous losses of those people left such a hole in my heart.
So, to current, I could probably relate to you all the people that I lost – but let’s be honest here. Who hasn’t lost someone?Whether it be a death, or just growing apart. It doesn’t make me special by any stretch of the imagination. The only thing that makes me different is the means by which things happened to some degree. But what we all can agree with is that it’s painful no matter how much you can relate to my losses.
So here I am, 38 years old, still feeling as though these people I lost left me. I’m learning to embrace a relationship with my brother Tim, which is odd. I can relate to him better than I can any other family members. I think if I remember correctly asking my brother Tim how he was doing. I think it was the first time that I had really done that. I am always blathering on about my life and what’s messed up in it. I felt that it was important for me to try to be different this time. It makes things more personable. It’s not that I don’t care about what goes on with other people and their lives. I do generally ask how people are doing, don’t get me wrong. It’s just with my brother, when we talk, he listens so well to me and I know what to expect. So when I take the initiative to ask how he is and not focus on me… it’s different.
My friend Stacey, who I love more than chocolate, or many other things that I cannot imagine my life without. She has been experiencing so much joy in her life as of late. And I am so proud of her and so beyond thrilled for her. Going through my trauma therapy, dealing with mental illness on a few fronts here at home, trying to find balance, dealing with financial crisis, yada yada, I don’t have the ability to tell Stacey – Hey! I am so happy for you! Here I am though, feeling so absolutely angry to some degree that that can’t be me. And it’s not to say that Stacey doesn’t deserve it. She absolutely does. She has worked very hard in her life. I mean, she’s got a few degrees, working on her masters, two kids – one who has been 5 years leukemia free, learning to embrace a healthy lifestyle, etc… etc… I mean, she’s rockin! That doesn’t mean that her life has always been perfect. Yet my brain, during all of this has been so self centered. And I want to say to her how much her progress means to me without saying, “Stacey, I’m so sick of seeing your happiness. Because when it comes right down to it, I want to share in that joy. Not necessarily with you. But to have my own happiness.” But that’s not right either. It’s just how it felt.
It’s hard not to compare/contrast. Feeling inept in life makes things difficult. Major depression makes things difficult. And so when all adds up, I look at my experiences and I think – wow. Was I the reason that people didn’t stay in contact? Could I have tried harder? I don’t think that I should have to initiate, continue to initiate, and wait for a restraining order to come in the mail because I won’t stop. Friendship has a certain give and take. So with that, those people that I lost and haven’t come back… they’re gone. I’ll never have a good reason for it. It just is.
With my current state of mind, if someone comes back that hasn’t been there, I feel stunted. Emotionally stunted in such a way that I feel like I’m in 5th grade talking to a teacher. I have to be careful of my words, I have to be reserved, yet respectful, and I have to listen. I’m not an equal participant, and I am not evaluated as equal. I am just here. I want to feel equal, but I never do.
I have also learned that my anger could have taken away a friend or two. I can’t change the past, but I had a family member who reached out to me. She offered me her phone number on facebook and told me to call her. Because of a lingering past hurt, I didn’t call. I wish I had. She was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and died 4 days later. I’m sorry Julie, I wish I had called. If I hadn’t been so angry over something you didn’t do and had no control over the outcome, I would have called. And maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty.
In the meantime, I love my friends that I do have. I know that I need to appreciate those who are still here. And I should not focus on why those that left did leave. It just adds to the pain, doesn’t it? Here I am though, trying to find a way to not feel so insecure and hurt. To not embrace so much of the “I’m not good enough” element. I hope some day I can. Because even with my husband and I coming up on another anniversary (13 years this year), I still feel like a) I’m not good enough, or b) that his life would have been better without me being a part of it. It’s so damn hard to live this way!
Again, thank you for reading! And thank you in advance for any comments.