I used to be the kind of girl who had insanely close friendships. The kind where I would know what the other person was doing every moment of the day, who could give answers for the other person, where you don't go a day without some sort of conversation.
Now, I'm realizing that just isn't me anymore... I realized this as I was trying to find an excuse for not going to a birthday dinner of someone who is in my closest circle of friends. I'm just too tired, I say. This week is insane with work. But really, I just don't want to go. I feel like every social interaction is a potential minefield to be navigated. If this were a smaller gathering, I'd be more inclined... But it's a large affair, complete with friends I haven't seen in years. It means driving 30 minutes into the city with a girlfriend whose relationship is strained and awkward. Staying up way past my bedtime. *Sigh* Making small talk. How I loathe small talk now.
I know that part of it is because our lives have all become more complicated, with more people grabbing parts of it. But, I got home from school and watched 3 hours of television. I could have called any number of people, but I just don't want to anymore. It used to be that an afternoon like that would make me feel lonely. I honestly don't even notice it anymore... Not until E pointed it out.
I pulled away from everyone, from life really, after our girls died. I didn't know how to live and move forward. I lived a robotic life, just going through the motions. Then when I did start trying to reach out to people, I found hurt more than help. Not on purpose, no never intentional, but always these sharp corners of misunderstanding and insensitivity. I was too raw and I learned not to trust that rawness around others.
Eventually, I found my footing and I tried to rebuild those bridges, those relationships... But for some reason or another, it just wasn't the same. Perhaps I was too much changed? Too quiet? Too sad? Too vulnerable? Perhaps they had moved on, past me while I was stuck? Filled the hole of my friendship with the friendship of others? Too much survivor guilt? Was it too hard to be around me? At some point, I felt I was the only one trying, so I stopped.
My therapist was asking about my support system these days. It's good, I told him. I have E, my sister (who just moved here), and my best friend (also an E). That's it, he asked. I know he was wondering about the plethora of others I've mentioned from time to time. Yes, that's all. And really, that's okay. I know that if I really needed someone, any of those three would drop everything and run to me. So, while I don't talk to them everyday, and I have absolutely no idea what they are doing right this moment (except E who is playing the guitar downstairs), it's enough for me, for right now.
Perhaps my idea of friendship was changed, perhaps it would have morphed anyway as I grew up but was speed along by tragedy and self-imposed isolation. This is my life as it currently is, and, while 5 years ago it would have made me crazy, I'm honestly okay with it now.
#MicroblogMondays 143: Boots
21 hours ago