Who am I? What am I?

My dearest friend,

I have written volumes about what our friendship means to me and where I would be if we'd never met.  I feel like I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.  But …..

Something has happened.  I have theories, but they all make me sad.  I just need to know the truth. Where to begin, or rather, where to begin without babbling incoherently.

We always said that our friendship was not based on the chorus and if it were to disappear, we would not be affected because we have so many other similar interests.  Then I retired from the Board.  You stopped communicating to me about anything chorus-related unless I initiated the discussion or you wanted a favor from me.  Turns out a lot of our conversations used to be about the chorus.  Many more than I realized until those conversations stopped.

My mental stability - or lack thereof - used to be a frequent topic of conversation.  When I finally got help and started taking an antidepressant, things leveled off.  I stopped having fits of anger and bouts of the blues.  I feel incredibly lucky.  My days and nights are calm.  Things that used to make me nuts have little effect on me these days.  But.... where is my friend, my "therapist", my sounding board, my rock?  I have not stopped wanting you in my life as my best friend simply because I don't have to lean on you like some psychotic basket case.

The "Wall".  A few years ago, your family was in crisis.  Your granddaughter was hospitalized with an undiagnosed and scary illness.  Being that we were best friends, my instinct was to help in any way possible.  But it was like a wall had been pulled down around all of you.  The rest of the, world, myself included, were on the outside and there was no looking in.  I was frozen out for months.  I did my best to understand and try not to focus on myself, but I was still in the grip of my emotional instability and complete lack of self esteem.  Those months seemed like an eternity.  Last year I finally tried to discuss it with you.  You told me that you'd blocked that year out.  We were interrupted, you said we needed to finish the talk another time, soon.  It never happened.  Now your husband has had a health scare.  I love your husband, I care about his health.  But the Wall is up again.  I'm not totally inexperienced.  When your spouse,  a man in his late 30's, is diagnosed with atrial fibrillation and the experts don't know how to treat him "because of his age" and nothing they try works, you get a little worried.   I remember being so grateful that I had a friend at work that was willing to allow me to unload on her.  You internalize things and are a private person. I get that. But I'm your best friend, aren't I?  There was a time in our history when you did literally cry on my shoulder.  I'm trying to understand, but I'm not having a lot of success.

Back to the truth.  What happened to us?  Is it that I'm not on the Board anymore?  Has my mental stability made me uninteresting?  Has it taken me off your priority list?  I'm ashamed to admit that a few years ago, I might have manufactured an "emergency" in order to get your attention.  Right now, I guess I like myself too much to stoop that low.

How does all of this make me feel?  Well, I feel like a toy that you keep on a shelf in the closet and bring out when you have that rare few hours of down time that you need to fill with something.  I love being an "Aunt" to your grandchildren and wouldn't trade it for anything, but family parties can't take the place of lunches, coffee or movies.   We can't talk at a birthday party the way we can when we're alone.  I feel like it's all about what's important to you.  In your brilliant, compartmentalized brain, where am I?  Am I in a compartment in the way back corner?  Or have I been purged altogether?

I just want to know the truth.  Maybe you don't even know it yourself.  I'm holding on to the belief that this is all coming from your subconscious and you don't realize any of this.  But really... I want the real truth.  Am I really your best friend still?   Or am I now one of those friends that you have to remember to get together with occasionally so that we can "get coffee and catch up"?   If that's what it is now, I'd rather just know and deal with it.

But, I just really hope that it's not.  That's all.

Love you always, no matter what.

TR

Catching Up

Hey!  Wow, it's been a while, right?  What can I say, when you get the urge to blog , you need to follow it.

A lot has changed since my last post, but in some ways, nothing has changed. That's why I'm at this place here..  I've lost the emotional anxiety that made me so needy and moody.  It was and still is such a relief.  The funny (or not so funny) thing is that there are still times that people are afraid to tell me things that they think will set me off.  When that happens, I think "man, why did anyone want anything to do with me?"

I shed my routine of some long-standing responsibilities that had become painful baggage. I took some serious me time for about six months and decided to challenge myself vocally by joining a philhamonic chorus.

I guess I thought I had things all figured out finally.  Well, you know, all actions have consequences.  I've been taking an antidepressant for going on two years, and there are times when I feel like whatever spark I had to my personality has vanished.  I've written pages and pages about my lack of friendships and lack of social life.  I guess I assumed that my moodiness and anxiety were such major turn-offs that the "new me" would be able to  at least improve my social  issues a teeny bit.  I was wrong.  Now, not only do I have no social life, I am also extremely conflicted about whether or not I even give a damn.  My motivation to do something about it is pretty much nonexistent because if I'm still not interesting enough for people to notice, what more can I possibly do?

Up to now, I've been ok.  But recently I started having strange, disturbing dreams.  A lot of them were so nonsensical that I couldn't describe them to anyone.  Then I had one about my job.  It was bizarre, but it also felt like my subconscious was questioning my career choices and this was its way of making me doubt myself.

Today was a banner day for mental health.  I woke up from a dream in which someone I love dearly had passed away, and I was trying to figure out how I wabs going to get through the rest of my life without this person..  I awoke with a sick, nauseated feeling in my stomach and an ache in my heart.  I had to lay in bed for 10 minutes just trying to recover and convince myself that it wasn't real.  Later today, I had just about recovered when I once again viewed photos on Facebook taken at a party at which I hadn't been invited.  Once again, this was a party that I shouldn't be upset or offended about, a party for someone that I know pretty well and have known for many years but not someone that I was super close with.  But.... given the other attendees.... and given the dozens of similar soirees I've viewed post-celebre, it felt like a stab.  It shouldn't have...which made me feel stupid and childish....but it did
.
I guess I need to come to terms with the fact that I will never be the belle of the ball.  One of my fears has always been that I would die friendless like my mother.  At this point, it is very likely that this will be my reality.   I am reminded of an episode of Sex and the City where Charlotte dates a man who takes antidepressants that have made him impotent.   When she asks him if he would ever consider not taking them for a while so that they could have sex, he answers in the negative.  For him, the cure is worth the side effect.  Needless to say, it wasn't for her.  LOL.   I couldn't cultivate a social life when I was a higher-energy, sparky moody rollercoaster, and I can't cultivate a social life now that I'm calm and thoughtful.  At least I'm not having anxiety attacks and meltdowns over the situation.   The dreams need to stop, though.  I'm almost afraid to close my eyes tonight.

I don't think I'll ever stop wondering though..... do we really have ultimate control over our true reality?