In the last Soundtrack post, I told you about the best friend that wasn't. In this post, I'm going to tell you about the friends that were. (so much happier)
Do you remember way back at the beginning of this thing when I told you about meeting Jennifer the First in junior high school? She was the first person upon initial meeting that made me feel like I'd known her forever. I came to call this feeling The Connect. It's only happened a few times in my life, but it happened with three different people my sophomore year.
One was J1. I'll talk about that later because he has his own song.
Another was one of the girls across the hall: Jennifer the Second. The third was a girl I'd meet during this year's sorority rush: Sagittarius (not her name, but her birth sign). Jennifer the Second is/was a funny, funny person. In some ways (but definitely not all), I think of her as the female version of Stephen T. McCarthy. Why is that? Mostly because she was always fast on the draw with nicknames (I'm terrible at nicknames) and witty comebacks.
Jennifer on left, me in middle, roomie on right
Sagittarius was more serious, which sounds strange for those who know that Sags are the "Happy Go Lucky" sign of the zodiac. And she was that, too, but she was also someone you could have a really deep conversation with and then go out for beers. Or someone you had a really deep conversation with while drinking beers. Whatever.
Sag is second from left
Jennifer the Second belonged to a different sorority than Sagittarius, and I'm pretty sure she wanted me to join her sorority. But, I knew that Jennifer the Second and I would be friends no matter what. So, I joined Sag's sorority, which was a really good move for me. I didn't pick it because they were the most popular or the most cool. In fact, they were the smallest, most diverse bunch of people you'd meet on campus. Turns out that appealed to me enormously. Instead of trying to blend and fit in, I was embracing my individuality. And drinking too much. (Remember, I warned you that was a huge hole that I just kept falling into again and again.)
This was a big year for me. So much bad going on, but so much GOOD, too. It would be many years before I'd feel The Connect again. These people are special.
Run your car off the side of the road
Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere
Or get yourself in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor, need a couch, need a bus fare
This is where the rubber meets the road
This is where the cream is gonna rise
This is what you really didn't know
This is where the truth don't lie
{Chorus} You find out who your friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who your friends are
Everybody wants to slap your back
wants to shake your hand
when you're up on top of that mountain
But let one of those rocks give way then you slide back down look up
and see who's around then
This ain't where the road comes to an end
This ain't where the bandwagon stops
This is just one of those times when
A lot of folks jump off
{Chorus}
When the water's high
When the weather's not so fair
When the well runs dry
Who's gonna be there?
{Chorus}
You find out who your friends are
(yeah, yeah)
You find out who your friends are
Run your car off the side of the road
Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere
(Well man, I've been there)
Or get yourself in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor, need a couch, need a bus fare
(Man, I've been there)
Man, I've been there
Oooh yeah.
Have you experienced The Connect? Have you ever hit the skids and found out who your friends were?
If you're enjoying these posts, feel free to share your own
Soundtrack. This isn't a hop. No requirements at all, but a suggestion
to do it one song at a time. (If you participated in the hop several
years ago, you can still do this. Just post them one song at a time,
with the freedom to add more songs if you'd like.) I'll link to all
participants at the bottom of each of these posts:
On my Battle of the Bands post, I promised to do some 'splaining about what happened at the end of freshman year that impacted sophomore year. We are finally to that point.
I was good friends (I was sure "besties") with this girl we'll call Erika, since that's her name and the chances of her reading this blog are nil. Anyway, Erika and I hung out all the time end of freshman year. She was one of those people who was liked by everyone. A whole lot of fun to be around.
I mean check out this face. This looks like a super nice person, right?
At the end of the year, you decide on who you want to room with the following year. We decided to be roomies. In the meantime, I turned down a whole bunch of other opportunities for roommates. In fact, I hooked two of the people up who asked me to room with them. Thus, when Erika backed out on rooming together at the last minute, because it might strain our friendship, it could've put me in a real pickle. Turns out, one of my "party" friends still needed a roommate, and we decided to give it a go.
Moving back into sophomore year, things with the actual roommate were working out very well AND things with Erika were also going very well. She and I still were "besties." Check out this sweet card she made for me in September:
click to enlarge
I also became much closer with the girl with whom I actually roomed. Our party friendship turned into a real one.
This person is actually a nice person:
me on left, roomie on right
Erika and I decided to roadtrip to New York for the fall break in October (she lived there). And then I was going to visit a high school friend of mine who was going to school at Westminster Choir College (it's close to Princeton).
Anyway, during the course of this trip, I made the mistake of sharing with Erika all of the "crazy" I felt about my parents divorcing. That's what best friends are for, right? Turns out we weren't best friends. In fact, after that trip, and my over-sharing of my feelings about my parents' divorce, we weren't friends at all. She couldn't handle my brand of crazy as evidenced by this note she wrote me right after we returned:
click to enlarge
That hurt for a long time, and that little bit of distance turned into an ocean. But, never doubt that there is a Bigger Plan at work, and she wasn't in mine. Besides, if you can't handle someone's fears about their parents' marriage going up in flames, you aren't going to handle the tougher stuff that comes later. She was a shallow pond instead of a pool. It's always best to find that out sooner than later. Can you imagine getting that letter and still having to room with that
person for the rest of the year? I was so thankful that Erika pulled the
plug on the roomies thing in the spring. Otherwise, sophomore year
would have been an endless nightmare.
This song, though, sums up how I felt about that relationship tanking when I needed it most.
With a sampled heartbeat and a stolen soul
I sold my songs to have my fortune told And it said
You should know that love will never die
But see how it kills you in the blink of an eye
I know love is a hot white light
It knocks you down and then leaves you dry Oh how can it be sweet mama tell me why
Why all love's disciples have to wither and die
Please sister, help me come on do what you should
Please give me something I’m not doing so good
I’m gone, done wrong is there nothing you can say
Please sister help me I’m not feeling ok
Give me belief that my time will come
And a toll free helpline if I find someone But she said
You gave away what you never really had
And now your purse is empty I can see why you’re sad
Please sister, help me come on do what you should
Please give me something I’m not doing so good
I’m gone, done wrong is there nothing you can say
Please sister help me
Can you make me feel ok
So if it’s true, that love will never die Then why do the lovers work so hard To stay alive
Please sister, help me
Please give me something oh
Please sister, you know I do what I can
Oh sweet mama, please descent me a man
Cause I’m gone, gone
Is there nothing you can get Please sister help me I just need some love To live Just a little love to live
Have you ever mistaken a shallow pond for a deep pool? Been disappointed when someone you thought was a friend walked away?
If you're enjoying these posts, feel free to share your own
Soundtrack. This isn't a hop. No requirements at all, but a suggestion
to do it one song at a time. (If you participated in the hop several
years ago, you can still do this. Just post them one song at a time,
with the freedom to add more songs if you'd like.) I'll link to all
participants at the bottom of each of these posts:
If you read the last Soundtrack post, it wasn't pretty. It was junior high school. Well, we aren't outta them woods yet.
BUT, today's story is a nice one. Whew!
Date: First day of 7th grade
Place: Hallway outside of health class
You're probably wondering why we're in the hall. Well, the gym teacher taught health class. I can't really remember the guy except he was big and had no neck. Yep, one of those guys, so he was coming from the gym, and he was late.
Meanwhile, I started talking to this blonde haired girl that I didn't know while we waited. She was really nice (unlike so many other people at this dreadful place). Turned out we had quite a few classes together. She would become my best friend all through high school, and someone that I'm still extremely fond of today. You can call her Jennifer The First. Jennifer was a popular name in the 60s and there are lots of 'em in my demographic.
Anyway, as I loosed myself from the girl down the street and the girl one street over, I found myself a new group of friends. Jennifer The First, Jenny, Michelle, and Kris. We all were in band, choir, etc. Some of us also loved theatre. These people saved my life. I'm so thankful for them. But most of all for Jennifer The First.
I know this song isn't actually geared toward friends. But I do thank God for each of them. I've got to give credit where credit is due... I thank God for you.
Well, I've been called a self-made man
And girl don't you believe it's true
I know exactly how lucky I am
When I'm gettin' this close to you
It's high time I'm giving some praise
To those that got me where I am today
I got to thank mama for the cookin'
Daddy for the whuppin'
The Devil for the trouble that I get into
I go to give credit where credit is due
I thank the bank for the money
Thank God for you
A strong heart and a willing hand
That's the secret to my success
A good women, I try to be a good man
A good job, Lord, I know I've been blessed
I'm just a part of a greater plan
It doesn't matter which part I am
I got to thank mama for the cookin'
Daddy for the whuppin'
The Devil for the trouble that I get into
I go to give credit where credit is due
I thank the bank for the money
Thank God for you
I got to thank mama for the teachin'
Daddy for the preachin'
The Devil for the trouble that I get into
I got to give credit where credit is due
I thank the bank for the money
Thank God for you
Mama
Daddy
Devil
Yeah, I got to give credit where credit is due
I thank the bank for the money
Thank God for you
I thank mama
I thank daddy
Devil
Well, I got to give credit where credit is due
I thank the bank for the money
Thank God for you
Can you imagine what this life would be like without friends to make it all bearable?
If you're enjoying these posts, feel free to share your own
Soundtrack. This isn't a hop. No requirements at all, but a suggestion
to do it one song at a time. (If you participated in the hop several
years ago, you can still do this. Just post them one song at a time,
with the freedom to add more songs if you'd like.) I'll link to all
participants at the bottom of each of these posts:
Honestly, I wish one of you could smack me. As in Literally. Smack. Me.
Some people never learn. I think I just might be one of those people. Seriously. A dumbass. There really are times that you should keep your opinion to yourself even when it seems like someone wants your opinion. They don't. It only appears that they do. But, they don't. They really don't. Even what you give to them is basically a rehash of what they just said to you. Even if you are affirming what they said... they do not want that. All of the signs point to them wanting that, but they don't.
And I should know this. Because the territory that we are in is marital territory. Worse yet, it is rocky marital territory. And when the signs point to the husband being a real jerk to your friend (even if he is a sick jerk, which only makes it worse, for the record) you should keep your opinions to yourself. Even if those opinions sound supportive, it turns out they are not. Because sick husband has lots of pull and is trying to manipulate friend into life altering decisions. And those decisions are clearly not good for your friend, so you say so.
Bad idea.
Why? Because friend is angry at sick husband, but feels guilty about being angry at sick husband. However, once she thinks about what you have said, she can transfer all of that anger onto you. Even though the only things that you said were repeats, for the most part, of what she said. To be fair, I did come up with a possibly crazy idea that husband might have had that made him look very bad and was completely loco. However, husband is acting loco.
The other thing is that my friend is the nicest person I know. As in 100 times nicer than I am. And I got run over by a master manipulator. Her husband has her tied up in knots. Sounds like he is already doing some manipulating of his own. I know what it is like to get taken down. I just didn't want to see it happen to her. And in the process of trying to protect her... well, I think we really aren't talking anymore.
I sent her an apology email a month ago and told her that I just wanted to support her no matter what. Nothing.
I sent her an email this morning... long and detailed about the death of my aunt. She sent me back one sentence telling me that she was sorry and another that she was praying for me and my mother. Then she said that things were better at her house and included a sentence about her kids. Four sentences. My grief totaled four sentences for her. One I'm sorry. One pray for you and mom. And two more to let me know that her family was carrying on good as new.
I am losing my faith in people. I used to hold that Anne Frank quote close to the chest for dear life, "I still believe that people are good at heart." I am no longer convinced. I feel a lot more like Greg House on House, MD. "Everyone lies." He is a big believer in disappointment. You expect people to lie, cheat, etc. then you will not be disappointed. It is only when you raise the bar and have expectations that you flounder around in disappointment like jelly in a jar.
I am sitting here thinking about how to end this blog and wishing that I had the other point of view, her point of view, to close with, in order to give this all meaning. I pushed all of her concerns back at her so hard because they were valid and she needed to stand up for herself. Instead, she got so angry that she couldn't even stand up to ME. We have been best friends since the seventh grade. She met this man three years ago and got married after knowing him only a couple of months. If she can't stand up to me, who will love her forever and always, no matter what she says, how can she stand up to someone who she feels has no respect for her (her words)?
And why am I the person she is no longer speaking to and things are peachy with him?
image found on someone's facebook page.... hilarious. subject matter of this blog not at all funny.
I really didn't want to write anything today. I am having focus problems. Dear friends, I love reading your blogs. I truly do. In fact, many a day I enjoy reading your blogs more than I like writing my own. Some days I just read your blogs and I don't write one of my own. This is all pre-cancer news. Since finding out about my dad and his terminal diagnosis, I just can't focus. Period. I tell myself that writing a blog will be good for me. In fact, that is what I am telling myself right now. I told myself that reading your blogs would be good for me, but I couldn't focus in order to actually accomplish the task. Do I want to know what you're doing? Yes. Am I interested? Yes. Why can't I focus? I have no idea.
Do I want to blog about what happened with my dad? Yes and no. Mostly no right now.
Do I want to blog about what happened with my sister-in-law? Yes and no. Mostly no right now.
Do I want to blog about the meeting with an old friend from school? Yes. But, I can't really focus. It's a good story and I want to get it right.
Do I want to blog about the doctor appt my dad had with the surgeon who removed his colon and hooked him to the colostomy bag? And then what he said to me? Yes and no. Mostly no right now. Some doctors deserve to be smacked. He needs a good smacking. And he isn't going on my list of doctors when my website goes up. Just sayin'.
Do I want to blog about how great Hospice is? Yes and no? Mostly yes. But not right now. It makes me sad. And happy. Happy sad.
I did think of Phoenix's blog on pushing more love toward situations that you can't control. If you have tried everything else, try pushing more love toward it. I even did that. It helped and then it didn't. And then I decided to focus on what mattered. Now, the old me who could focus better would find that blog and link up to it. Why? Because it was an awesome blog that she probably wrote about eight months ago and I still remember it. A blog has to be pretty darn awesome to stick in my brain for that long. Would I like to write more about the details of this? Yes and no.
Why? Because Chris over at A Deliberate Life just wrote a blog a few days ago on Letting Go of Resentment. I didn't comment on that blog. Why? Because I couldn't focus. However, it really hit home for me. Sometimes people are who they are. I pretty much had that one figured out before I left Ohio, but reading that blog was kind of the last straw, so to speak. It helped me just to let it all go. You aren't going to change people. Not everyone is going to like you. You can be as nice to them as you know how to be. You can be yourself (how can you be anyone else?). And if they still just don't like you, they don't like you. All you can do is continue to be kind to them and treat them as nicely as you know how. That is it. Keep pushing love toward them. And if they still don't like you, well that is on them. But, let it go. You aren't going to win them all and that is that.
The last thing I can think of right now is that my neighbor suggested that I write (as in email) my congressman and then follow it up with a phone call about Social Security denying my SSDI claim. She said she worked some government agency back in the day (Medicaid maybe) and it really got the ball rolling for someone if a Congressman took an interest. Anyway, she said that because they denied my claim based on four doctors (it was supposed to be 2 of mine and 2 of theirs), but one of the doctors was someone I had never seen, I had reason to involve my Congressman. I also had reason to involve my Congressman because my representative in this case said "This kind of thing happens all the time." They were jaded by the system and how it wasn't working and not willing to fight. Their answer was an appeal, which we would have done anyway. So, blog friends, in your opinion do you think that writing and calling your local Congressman is the way to go here to speed up this process? I am interested in your thoughts...
Okay, I promise to try and be a better blog friend, and get my stuff together, so that I can put coherent thoughts together, so that I can actually read your posts. As it is, I read a little here and a little there. But, I mostly don't feel able to comment. It is very sad. I never really thought the day would come when this girl would be at a loss for words. (silently shaking head now in disbelief) So, I will work on my focus issues and hope that you bear with me while I sort it all out.
I have been working for hours trying to put up a Thursday post and it is just not happening. It has been one computer malfunction after another. I finally uploaded the newest version on Internet Explorer because it kept crashing on me when I would switch over from the Edit to Compose mode on here. That did resolve that problem. However, now I can't do anything in the Compose mode. So frustrating. For instance, I can't even get my mouse to highlight any portion of text for any reason. It is midnight and now it is Friday. Technically Friday. I am exhausted in every possible way that a person can be tired. I will get that post out tomorrow. Sometime this weekend I will update you on my dad. And OH YEAH there is lots to tell there. Hence, the overwhelming exhaustion. All of your comments have been so loving and from the heart. Really can't tell you how much kind words mean. Kindness is the one thing we can offer in the face of devastation and loss. Actually, so many times it is the only thing we can offer. You guys have it in abundance. Thank you for showering it on me. I have felt it and appreciated every word. Truly.
Well, I never could get the PUBLISH button to actually publish last night. And I finally gave up. Today, I decided to try and actually finish the "real" post on my step-dad's computer. His computer won't transition between the edit and compose without shutting down, either. Egads. However, I bet this post will publish. I am not giving up. I have a Thursday post and I will find a way to finish it and get it published. I am hoping it is today.
Have you ever noticed that it is feast or famine? When it rains, it pours? That sometimes your life really is a country song? I hear David Allan Coe callng my name....
I know that many people blog simply because they enjoy writing, and this is one venue when others are clogged up, dried up, or feel like danger zones. Yeah, I am talking about those of us who really want to write that novel, but can't quite get a handle on it, so we blog in order to write something. At least that is how this whole thing started. I have discovered that there is a flipside to this blogging reality. And that, my blogging friends, is this: people in the real world are not very nice. There is a very real lack of kindness out there. Have you noticed?
If you have been blogging for any length of time, you may have met some people on here who are more friendly and kinder than anyone you actually know. It is comforting and discouraging, all at the same time. It is a relief to meet someone who is nice. It is horrible that they live in your computer.
I called a friend of mine who lives here on Christmas Eve, her birthday. Turned out not to be a good time. She said to call the next day because her family did everything on Christmas Eve. I called and got the machine. She promised that she would call me back. I left a message saying that I would be up until at least 10pm. Call anytime before then. Never heard back. That day or any day since. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I always was the one who called her. She never calls me. So, I am very undecided about what to do. So far, I am not calling again. Her son is good friends with my ex-husband. I called him (my ex, not her son) to talk about the kids this past weekend. Turns out he was at her house and it sounded like she was having a party. He also said he would call me back. Still waiting on that return phone call, too. There is definitely a part of me that is glad to not be at the top of my ex's priority list... However, common decency does dictate that I would like a call back within 48 hours. We are now well beyond that. And the fact that he made the guest list and I didn't on a party... well, that just sucks. No other word for that.
So today was my annual mammogram. Actually, my first ever. And it wasn't bad. Everyone should go if you are at that age. As in 40 or over. It was yet another dual lesson in kindness. After you get checked in, there is another small waiting room in the back. At a certain point, I knew that I was next. However, about four other women had come in. All of them got called before me and put into dressing rooms. At that time, the tech with my chart came in and saw what had happened. She became really angry because she knew what had happened. I had no idea, but I thought I was supposed to be next. She mumbled something about dressing rooms and said, "We're going to get you a gown and you can change in the room." And that is what she did.
As we got into the room with the machine, she handed me my gown. She told me that I was next in line, but the other techs were trying to beat me to the machine by getting their people into the dressing rooms first. She foiled their plan by taking the room with the machine and locking the door. Apparently, the unwritten rule is that if the person who is next is not "ready," then the following person on the list can supersede them. So, all the techs put their people in dressing rooms to see who could get undressed and into a gown first. It was like sharks in the water. It made my girl mad. Apparently, this was not a working environment where kindness reigned and co-workers looked out for one another. Where has all the kindness gone?
I was trying to explain this to my mom in the car while we were driving to the Sam's shopping complex. She had an exchange to make at Tractor Supply Company, and then we were making a fairly quick stop at Sam's Club. She never did quite grasp the situation. The idea that the co-workers were trying to jump each other in the line for the machines (there were two small plate, one large plate) was an alien concept to her. She simply couldn't wrap her brain around it. She is a "you do it the right way" person. Well, so am I. I would have had a tough time working there. Migraine city.
In the middle of all this, we were dealing with the interstate and merging into traffic. Some yo-yo was right on her tail and she got really upset about it. I was afraid we were going to have a repeat of what I call "the incident" from when I was in junior high. That would be the time some guy flipped off my mom in traffic, and it made her so mad that she rolled down her window, whipped out her middle finger, and shook it at him. She was screaming at the top of her voice, "To you too, buddy." I was holding a vanilla shake from McDonald's that I almost ended up wearing in my lap. That was as close as I had ever come to seeing my mom curse. Ever. My hands went limp and my whole body went into shock. I wasn't able to speak for nearly ten minutes. Like I said, we almost relived that again today. However, this time I was expecting it and I had no shake. A shake would have been nice, come to think of it.
Let me begin by saying that I love you so much and I appreciate everything that you are doing for me now, as well as everything you have already done. Anytime I have needed anything, I could always count on you to come through for me. You never once made me feel badly about any of this mess. I appreciate that beyond words.
You and I are alike in so many ways. Some of those ways are good and some are not so good. You got sick, like me, by sticking with a job that was causing you chronic stress. In fact, you were just about my age now when it got you. Mom tried to convince you to quit, but you wouldn’t do it. The way you saw it was that there were a few good guys still standing and the bad guys had taken over. You weren’t going to desert the ship. You were going to fight the good fight until the bitter end. And that is just what you did. You literally went down in your office and were taken out by ambulance. Our symptoms were different, but the root problem was the same. I think that you recovered more quickly because you quit that job and you mentally let it go. I haven’t ever been able to quit C-Man and H-Girl or let them go. So, my task is to find a way to manage my life in a non-stressful way.
One of the things that I never really understood about you is the fact that you never really seemed to need anyone. You were always content to be by yourself. I always love my alone time, but like being around other people. Now, I rarely see anyone other than mom and Steve. I am not sure that I like it, but I have allowed myself to accept it. I don’t feel well enough to commit to things in advance, don’t like to drive at night, and I have discovered that my friends aren’t willing to go out of their way to pick me up. It’s telling, really. And that makes me withdraw further. Is that what you knew all along working in the social work business? People care mostly about themselves and don’t really give a care about others. Is that what caused you to pull into yourself and decide that you had limited resources for others?
One other thing I want to say is that I am sorry that your childhood was so hard. I wish that nanny had not had that hyper-thyroid problem when you were a young boy that made her so anxious and sharp. Every noise jangled her nerves. I am sorry that your sister being a toddler was given slack by her father that wasn’t extended to you. I am sorry that you never understood that it wasn’t a question of favoritism, but it was about illness. I am sorry that you still don’t understand the dynamics within your own family. You were your mother’s favorite and that hurt your sister. Your step-father favoring your sister hurt you. All of that set up a snarl of hostility between you and your sister that should never have existed culminating in the two of you disowning each other. I am sorry that you never got the opportunity to forgive each other and she died hating you and loving you and hating you for not loving her. I am sorry that because of your attack in your 40s you have lost chunks of your memory and we can’t even discuss these things because you don’t remember them.
Thank you for re-reminding me how important it is to forgive.
Lastly, I want to tell you how terrified I am that chunks of my memory are going to start to leave me and I am afraid they won’t come back. I am already losing words, spelling, names, and directions to places. So far, they come back. You were only down for about a year. I’ve been down for seven now. When you lose your memory in chunks, you know you are losing it. It isn’t like Alzheimer’s when the person doesn’t know they have lost their mind. I’m scared. And I wanted to tell you because I knew you would understand.
I love you.
Love, Robin
Dear Steve,
My parents have this obligation, sort of, to take me in when the chips are down. I understand that my mother wanting me to come live with you two could have been a major source of friction. Instead, you both welcomed me with open arms. That was a kind and loving thing to do for someone who isn’t family by blood. You have been so generous to me by allowing me to live with you two and asking little in return. You understand and accept my limitations.
A few days ago, you both sat me down and went through some of those legal things that people just don’t like to talk about. However, you both wanted me to know that I would always have a place to live whether you were living or not. And you really threw me a curve when you made me the beneficiary of your life insurance policy in the event that my mother had already passed. You just don’t know how much that kind of thing means. Honestly, I don’t want either one of you to pass before I do because I am just not sure I could take it. I know that you are both thinking in terms of the odds, and chances are that I will outlive you. So, thank you for doing all that you can to take care of me once you are gone. I hope that I am in a position where I am taking care of not only myself, but other people, but that isn’t the point of this letter.
Thank you for the love and all of the kindnesses, big and small. It's like I got a second dad. I love you.
Love, Robin
Dear Mom,
I am not sure when we went from mother and daughter to friends. And then you became my best friend. But, that is what has happened. You are now the first person I want to tell when I get good or bad news. I miss you when you and Steve go on vacation. I tell you that I don't, and that I love having the house to myself, but that's a lie. I miss you. I see you getting older. Heck, I see me getting older. It scares me. I can't imagine living in this world without you in it. When I was a kid, I thought the worst thing in the world would be to turn into you. When I was married to The Operator, I heard my voice saying your words, and I knew that it had happened, despite myself. The thing was this: those words now sounded pretty darn smart. And right. They were a lot more right than they sounded when I was on the receiving end. What I realized was this: as a parent you gave me the precious gifts of consistency, morals/values, and respect.
Mom, you might never see this, but this says better than I could just how I feel about you. Turn off your music player at the bottom of the page.
I love you.
Love, Robin
image hijacked from Miss Angie at My So-Called Chaos
Dear Jennifer, I am not sure that I have ever told you what a blessing you have been to me. Without you, junior high school would have been a nightmare. However, even more than that, I would not have known what it was to be a best friend to another person. You taught me that. You radiated kindness, genorousity, grace, a loving spirit, and honor like a beacon. You never told me when I stepped out of bounds, which I did on a number of occasions, but I always could see it in your eyes. I then had to set about a way of making it right to whomever I had just been a tad too Much with, in the name of Robin's Stand Up Routine (which was an ongoing show). You played an excellent straight man, by the way. And you never complained once. When I saw Beaches in college, I sat in the theatre and wondered if that was how you felt. Were you content to let me shine and be the wind beneath my wings? Yeah. I was the one with all the glory, but you were the one with all the strength. I wonder if you think of me when you hear that song, like I think of you. I'm sorry that your life has been so hard, and that we have always lived so far away from each other. I have finally cut myself a break on that advice I gave you when you called me looking for that pep talk. I gave you the best advice I could give with the information I had. You were working two jobs, going to school, and your husband wasn't working at all. You were mad and I agreed that you had a right to be. There was no way we could know that the tiredness he was complaining about was the beginnings of cancer. People don't go to the doctor when they don't have health insurance because they are tired. I'm so sorry that by the time he did go it was in his lymph nodes and he only lived four more months. I'm sorry that he died leaving you to be a single mother to a toddler. But, I am so proud of you for taking some time for yourself to reboot and then taking your life back. Your daughter is just starting first grade and you are newly married and I hope that your struggles make you appreciate all of your blessings. I am always only a phone call away. I love you. Love, Robin
Dear Jen, This is a difficult letter to write. We haven't spoken in eleven years. I have recently called you and left messages, but they go unreturned. You have drawn your own line in the sand. I will respect it even if I don't like it. There was a time when you knew me better than anyone else in the entire world. And I thought that I knew you. I think that I did. I just didn't know the you that married the abusive husband. You got lost after that. I couldn't find you again. You started lying to me and you wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did to you. At the time, I didn't understand abuse at all. I didn't know what it does to the mind of the abusee. I rode that out for three years with you, and was relieved when he left you for his pregnant mistress after he got his green card. My relief didn't last long. You soon began dating someone even worse than your ex-husband. This man had stalked one of our mutual friends, Sue. You went with her to the police station three or four years earlier to take out a restraining order on this man. This man is/was still married to your cousin. You were putting every relationship that you had in jeopardy to date him. Eventually, after this man used the key that Sue gave you to her apartment to go in there and manhandle her things, push came to shove. She told you that she couldn't be friends with you anymore if you stayed with him. You stayed. I never heard from you again. I am sorry about so many things here. Mostly I am sorry that you didn't believe in yourself enough to leave your husband. He told you a couple of months into the marriage that he was cheating on you was going to continue cheating on you. You are worth so much more than that. I don't know why you could not see that. I am sorry that you took up with a man that you knew would drive wedge between you and your friends. Maybe between you and your family. Mostly I am sorry that you cannot see how wonderful you are and that you deserve so much better. Love, Robin
Dear Sue, We went through so much even in college. There is that saying that your friends are the family that you choose. I always thought that was you and me. The family that you choose. Of course, we went through all of the break-ups and breakdowns that go along with boys and college. However, I felt like we really bonded when I was one of the people that you came to when you decided to pursue finding out who your biological parents were. And getting to be there when those bits of information started coming in. I remember the first bit was devastating, and we all had a huge cry over it. After that, you just became determined to find out what was what. Some of my favorite memories are of us when we were living in Queens by ourselves. It was just the two of us and we owned pretty much nothing. It was the emptiest apartment I have ever seen. Our living room had my old rocking chair and an end table. That was it. We spent all week working on the New York Times Crossword puzzle. And talking and laughing. Of course, I was job hunting in there, too. Then I got a job, Jen moved in, we got furniture and a TV, Wes moved in, and it was suddenly crowded, and we didn't do the crossword anymore. Through all of my moves we kept in touch. Savannah, Michigan, Ohio, Augusta. And we stayed close. Like family. We went on that Europe trip in 1999, and it remains the best trip ever. I never thought there would be a day that I couldn't call you. You even hung in through my abusive marriage. Well, through some of it. You hung in until your sister died in a car accident. You just don't see those things coming. I wanted to support you in that like I always had. I supported you all the way down the line in finding your biological parents. But, you slammed the door on me with the death of your sister. Honestly, I didn't understand it. You and your sister were never close. But you pulled the trucks around to fortify the ranks and I was not one of the trucks. You only took one of my calls and that was to ask me not to call again. You were going through a hard time and couldn't deal with anyone who wasn't family. About two years later on our Williamsburg trip I got the distinct feeling that you were upset with me, because I didn't want to hold your baby all of the time, or feed it like Roberta did. It wasn't any of those things. I was still plagued with horrible daily migraines and just "being" was hard for me. I also didn't participate in everything you guys did, and, again I felt like that bugged you. However, there were times I just had to lie down. My head was killing me. All in all, that trip reinforced for me that our connection was lost. Several months later, maybe even a year, I sent an email out to you, and several other close friends going into detail how my ex was sabotaging my life without me knowing it. I also went on to explain about the deterioration of my health, and what the doctors had discovered, how I was going to have to sell my house. It was a "my life has come apart at the seams letter." I never heard a word from you. But, you don't have to feel too guilty. You weren't the only only one who blew me off. I only actually heard from one person out of about twenty. The rest were just as disinterested as you. I am sorry that I thought we were family when, in truth, we were just fair weather friends. Peace Out, Robin
Dear Megan, don't know quite how to thank someone for just being themselves. I love the fact that you are you, and your you is the opposite of me. Not totally opposite, just opposite in lots of cool ways. I love that you are quiet and that makes you mysterious. That is why we became friends. I had to unravel the puzzle that is Megan. I love that you know how to sew and iron and bake. Who does these things? Not me. But you do! I love that when you travel you carry a sewing kit. I would be lost without you. Because you know who doesn't have a sewing kit? Me. I love that you are so smart about cool stuff. I am short on an example right now, but you know the darndest things. I love that you don't judge people by what is on the outside, but by what is on the inside. You have this way of looking inside of someone and knowing if there is anything worthwhile in there. That is an excellent superpower to have. I love how you can deliver a joke with a totally straight face so that a person never sees it coming. *Bang* Mostly, I love your loyalty. I haven't seen you since I married The Operator, but I know that if I needed you, you would be there. You were the only person who responded to my Life Is Going Off The Rails Email. And you didn't respond by email. You picked up the phone and you called. And the first thing you said was, "Do I need to get on a plane?" And then I started crying and I said that wasn't necessary. Although, it probably was. I just didn't want anyone to see me like that. So, my dear friend, you are the best. I am sure I will never tell you how much that meant to me, because I am just a moron like that, but it meant the world. I love you. Love, Robin
Dear Mom, I am not sure when we went from mother and daughter to friends. And then you became my best friend. But, that is what has happened. You are now the first person I want to tell when I get good or bad news. I miss you when you and Steve go on vacation. I tell you that I don't, and that I love having the house to myself, but that's a lie. I miss you. I see you getting older. Heck, I see me getting older. It scares me. I can't imagine living in this world without you in it. When I was a kid, I thought the worst thing in the world would be to turn into you. When I was married to The Operator, I heard my voice saying your words, and I knew that it had happened, despite myself. The thing was this: those words now sounded pretty darn smart. And right. They were a lot more right than they sounded when I was on the receiving end. What I realized was this: as a parent you gave me the precious gifts of consistency, morals/values, and respect. Mom, you might never see this, but this says better than I could just how I feel about you.
I love you. Love,Robinimage stolen from Miss Angie at My So-Called Chaos
I would have posted this yesterday, but it was Thursday, and I had other plans for that day. Anyway, I have got a story for you guys that I think is going to knock your socks off, blow your skirt up, throw you for a loop. Whatever. I am telling you: this one is a freaking doozy. I woke up Wednesday morning just trying to wrap my brain around this dream I just had. I know that most of the time dreams are us trying to work out our problems in our subconscious. However, this one did not feel like that. One of the reasons is because the main person in the dream is someone that I reconnected with on facebook about a year and a half ago. We did the FB thing. A few emails when you first reconnect, then comments on pictures, he occasionally comments on my blog, but mostly nada. Meaning he is not in my conscious mind at all. So, I decided to send him an email. Yeah, it bugged me that much. Here is the email I sent to him:
Hey, I know it’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me. And this email is going to be weird. So, take a moment to buckle your seat belt. I’m going to skip the pleasantries and go straight to the weird. I know, that is so unlike me.
So, here it is. I had this dream last night and you were in it. That is a first. It is a double weird because you have not been in my conscious mind at all lately. It isn’t like we have been talking on email or I have been posting blogs and you have been leaving comments. In other words, there is no good reason for you to be in my subconscious mind.
Moving on to the dream itself… you know I can’t remember anything that was actually happening in the dream because what was going on with you was very intense. You were on fire. However, I could talk to you and you could talk back. It hurt but you wouldn’t let me put it out. You kept saying that you could handle it. The flames came right up to your shoulders. And I kept saying that I really thought you should either stop, drop, and roll, or let me pour some water on you. It went on like that for a long time. There were other people in this dream that we both knew, but I can’t remember now who they were. They weren’t real happy with you being on fire, either. But, they had other things to do and kept leaving. I was the only who stayed and watched and/or discussed putting the fire out. Finally, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. That was a HUGE RELIEF moment for me. I can’t imagine what it was for you. And you did the stop, drop, roll thing and I grabbed a towel or some other cloth and patted you down where you were still flaming.
After you were finally fire-free, the only place that you were burnt was your chest. You couldn’t tolerate wearing a shirt. You had a terrible burn on your chest (so I could totally get the not wearing a shirt thing because that would really hurt).
And then I woke up. I thought about that dream for a long time after as I lie in bed. It was weird. Who wouldn’t think about it? I have to say that you are the first person on fire that I have ever dreamt about. The fact that the burn was isolated to the chest said to me (upon waking) that it was a heart wound. It was a burn on the inside that showed on the outside, but really could only be on the inside. The odd thing is why YOU were the burning man. You haven’t done or said anything to suggest to me that you have any heart wounds or are anything less than happy in all aspects of your life.
My cousin is psychic. Or to a degree anyway. Her channel is more open than a lot of people’s. She didn’t want to be psychic and went through a period of getting terrible headaches (migraines) until she accepted them. I have never considered myself to be psychic. I have become more intuitive as I have gotten older, but not psychic. However, if my stupid old channel is trying to open and I am resisting and it is giving me migraines, well that is unacceptable. I will let it open. No more migraines, thank you very much. I have plenty already.
I only told you the last because I want you to understand that I am not being nosy. However, if you read this and you can see yourself as the burning man in my dream… meaning it resonated for in some aspect of your life, please say so. If you read this and you think, well that is so not anywhere close to me or what is going on with me, well say that, too. I am just trying to figure this one out.
This is what he sent back:
Um, whoa.
Okay, let me respond on a couple of fronts. First, I am generally a pretty happy guy. My marriage is, by all accounts, really solid, I have a great relationship with my two kids. Things are good, and relative to a lot of folks, I think my heart is in a pretty good place.
But there's a second point. I haven't spoken to my dad in nearly two years. It's a long (really long) story, but suffice it to say that our relationship has been damaged to the point that it is nearly irreparable. He cheated on my mom with a younger woman, and then left her to marry said mistress. But that's something that I can get over. The problem is that in the ensuing years, he and his new wife have turned into these incredibly mean, self-centered, narcissistic, materialistic people. There are countless stories I could tell. They are truly toxic. She has two children by a prior marriage, and hasn't spoken to either of them in years.
Well, about two years ago, the two of them sat down and wrote this incredibly ridiculous letter to all four of their children (my brother and I, as well as her two kids), essentially disowning us. None of us have spoken to them since. I've made peace with the situation, and feel that it is best for my two sons that they have no relationship with them (they did some horribly mean things to their various grandkids over the years).
Well, my brother finally broke down the barrier and invited them down for a visit. On the last day of their trip (yesterday), he confronted them on a lot of the crap that has been pulled over the years. So yesterday evening, I spent several hours on the phone talking with my brother (and my wife) about the outcome of that conversation, and struggling with the question of whether I want or will seek to have any relationship with my father. He is 72, and given our family's health, probably doesn't have a ton of time left. I'm horribly conflicted.
So while I wouldn't describe myself as suffering from any sort of severe emotional distress, there is no question that, last night, I struggled with personal and emotional conflict more than any other day in the past 18 months.
Make of that what you will.
So, I am asking you unbiased people out there in blogland: what do you make of this? Do you think that my dream about my friend being on fire was representational of the emotional conflict he was feeling that night? Even though he says that his father is toxic and he has made peace with that, in my dream it was very clear that his heart was hurting. Do you think he really has made peace with that, and my dream and his situation are unrelated? Or do you think that I had the dream so that I would send him the email, so that he would realize that his heart is hurting? Do you think that sometimes we live in denial because if we acknowledge the truth it is just too damn painful? So, are the dream and my friend connected or was it just a random coinkydinky (coincidence)?
Jen, Sue, and I are sitting in Sue's room playing three handed euchre on her bed and drinking beer. The Indigo Girls are keeping us company. Sue's boyfriend wanders around, but goes largely unnoticed. He is in the middle of one his sculpture projects. He is constantly bringing stuff he finds tossed out on the sidewalk back to the apartment to incorporate into his art. His current piece involves three old television sets and a lot of stuff I can't identify. I have no idea what he is making. I don't ask. I am on my second beer and pretty happy. It took four years of intense college study to figure out that three beers is the ideal amount of drinking for me. Any more than four involve puking in the bathroom. It took a lot of puking to figure this out. I hung with a crowd that could pound a 12 pack and still shoot pool successfully. It was a tough room back then.
This is nice. My two favorite girls. Playing cards. And drinking beer at my own speed (sloooow). And The Indigo Girls. We listen to them so much that we all knew all of the words to every song. We are toasted enough that we sing along to all of the songs. We can sing and play at the same time. We are multi-taskers. The song "Land of Canaan" just finished. That one always makes me think of MFL. Lots of emotions going on there. He is over fighting Desert Storm and I see a therapist in Brooklyn once a week. Next up is "Love's Recovery." This song is so sad. I look at the two people beside me and feel this enormous relief that this will never be my fate. Thank God.
There I am in younger days, star gazing, Painting picture perfect maps of how my life and love would be Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection My compass, faith in love's perfection I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together Left each other one by one in search of fairer weather And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast To the slim chance of love's recovery. ~Indigo Girls, Love's Recovery
October 1991, Manhattan, New York
Jen and I are walking to work. We now live in the city. Sue and her boyfriend have their own place. MFL is still in Desert Storm and I am still making my weekly trip to Queens for therapy. Jen's job and mine are fairly close together.
Me: Do you think about the future?
Her: Sure.
Me: I can't imagine you, me, and Sue not living close. I know that she is still in Queens right now and that is kinda far and a pain. But, ultimately, when we get our lives all put together, there has to be some way to work it out that we live in the same apartment building or on the same street. No further than a few blocks, right?
Her: Definitely.
Me: That's what I think, too. I want our kids to play together and be the best of friends like we all are. I just can't imagine it any other way.
Her: The same building would be best.
Me: (I smile) Definitely.
**************************** If you didn't read the post, My First Love, you probably should. The only reason to write a post like yesterday's is to figure it out. Chris calls it cleaning out your chicken coop. If you stop when it first starts to smell, then you don't learn anything. You have to keep going. Even when it smells so bad that it stings your nose hairs. In other words, you have to get down and dirty if you want to get anywhere. So, let's go....
The common denominator in all of those relationships was ME.
Now take what you learned from that blog and put it up against yesterday's blog.
I did not want to leave New York. I did not want to leave my friends. I did not want to leave my career. I spent all of my time worrying about being left by MFL. Here is where my unhealthy pattern began of subverting what I know is best for me in a relationship and doing something else out of fear. In this case, it was the fear of being left. I'd already been left so many times it was the pattern (in that relationship). He wasn't going to leave (unless he got killed) in Desert Storm. However, at Fort Stewart he had a year and half to move on. If I had stayed in New York, I would have kept my career, my friends, and if that relationship was meant to be it would have been. Either way, I would have been a stronger person, capable of standing up for what I needed in a relationship with another person.
That one choice to move to Georgia, and leave New York, changed EVERYTHING.
In terms of my friends: I wasn't around for my friend when she started seeing someone who was not good for her. If I had stayed, we wouldn't have moved. They probably wouldn't have met. However, if she'd met someone else who was the same kind of bad, I would have been there. She wouldn't have been alone. It is harder to corner someone into a verbally/emotionally abusive relationship if they have friends. I was the glue that held our little trio together (Jen, Sue, and I).
In terms of myself: Once you know your own strength you build on that pattern. You build on a pattern of good. You stop being that girl who is scared to death that anytime she really cares about someone they emotionally and/or physically leave. You get to stop being her. You start being that woman who is strong, walks away from abusive situations and/or emotional "suckers," and fulfills her potential.
The pain of every single one of those relationships has to do with leaving. Someone picks up their bags and emotionally leaves. I say someone. What I mean is someone who isn't me. Jen started doing it when she was lying to me on the phone about her life. It was a slow emotional withdrawal from our relationship. She eventually quit calling me. She left me for her abusive boyfriend. I was tired of chasing her. Sue couldn't deal with me after the death of her sister. She emotionally left. She emails now occasionally about her kid. However, our friendship is not the same. I chased her for a while (as in calling to try and reconnect), but I got tired of getting shut down. Jennifer and I actually do exchange heartfelt emails and if I asked for a phone number she would give it. It is easier for me to email her. Emotionally, she is the only instant connect who is still right here in it with me. Right Guy... he emotionally left a long time ago I think.
Now that I have it figured out, I can make a conscious choice not to chase someone down and beg him to stay. Furthermore, my attitude will reflect that of a person who is not willing to chase someone down. Something tells me that simply by adopting this change of attitude my next relationship is going to be someone who is solid, sure of himself, and doesn't feel the need to emotionally bolt at the first sign of thunder. (I bet my future friendships will be better, too:-)
I am going to attempt something that just isn't in my nature. I am going to try and be concise. I will mix that up with links to previously written blogs for those of you who want more information and songs that give you a sense of how I feel. There is nothing like a song to convey a feeling. That is why many of you get songs for your HERE'S TO YOU footage. Music speaks to my soul.
I have had five people in my life that I met and instantly felt a connection to them. It was like I knew them forever. It happened the first time when I was in the 7th grade standing outside of health class on the first day of school. Her name was Jennifer. We became best friends. Looking back on it, I think our friendship was similar to the two women in BEACHES. I was the Bette Midler character and she was the quieter, stabilizing force. I could put a Wind Beneath My Wings video on here. Pretend I did and think about the song in your head. We went to different colleges. I loved college. I didn't find out until after it was all over that she didn't. We have never lived in the same place since high school. We have kept in touch.
In college, my freshman year was an out of control roller coaster ride. I was determined to see who I would be if Let Go of who I was in high school and tried on being someone else. That is scary sh*t. Aside from majoring in music, which was completely detrimental to my spirit, that was the only thing that was familiar ~ and bad. My sophomore year turned around in a huge way. I met all three of the people who were instant connects (like Jennifer from high school) that year. Ironically, the first was another Jennifer. I guess we will call her Jen to keep her separate. The other was My First Love. You can read that story here. And the other was Sue. That connection was strong enough that I joined Sue's sorority instead of Jen's, even though I just met her through the Rush process. I just knew it was the Right Place for me to be.
After we all graduated college, Jen, Sue, and I lived together. Then Sue and her boyfriend lived on their own and Jen and I got our own place. Then MFL came back and I left NYC altogether and moved in with him. You know that story. While I was gone, Jen met a guy and decided to get married. I flew up for the wedding. The guy she was marrying was black. Okay. He was also Islamic. Less okay. He needed a greencard. Not okay. However, she assured me this was true love. It is hard to know what is what when you aren't there. After MFL and I broke up, and I was living back home, I finally started getting the real story. (We'll just call him A, because I can't spell his name.) Make that pieces of the story because she never told me the whole story. She would tell Sue and Sue would tell me. A quit his job. A told Jen to her face this she was his wife and that this other woman was his mistress (when she caught him cheating on her two months into the marriage). A went shopping every day for expensive clothes and shoes. Jen started hiding her ATM card because A was financially breaking her. A spent his nights looking for hidden ATM card while she was sleeping. When he found it, he would sneak out and withdraw the max amount out of the account. A had no intention of getting a job or giving up the mistress.
Don't forget to turn off my music player at the bottom of the page.
I wrote a blog that explains all of this very coherently and you can read it here. However, if you don't want the explanation that really explains anything, she got involved with another guy. A worse guy after A left her. A got his green card and his mistress pregnant. In my other blog I explain all of the ways this guy is worse. By this time, my relationship with MFL was over and I was living at home. I couldn't even talk to her about what was going on in my life, which was a freakin' nightmare. You can read about that here. She clearly had no clue about making good decisions. And I wasn't doing much better if you read my blog. In other words, it would be like one mental patient asking another one for advice. Really not the best way to go. Anyway, I felt like I dealt pretty well with her and her mess until she started talking about moving to Africa with him. He, too, was Islamic. I suggested that was not a good idea. She didn't listen to me. We stopped talking. Oh, and I called her parents (who knew nothing about this relationship to give them a heads up). My feeling was that so long as she was in this country she could leave. I totally didn't understand verbal/emotional abuse AT ALL. I did understand that she wasn't thinking straight.
Okay, that wasn't a song. That was a "you didn't have my back" clip. I decided it was more direct. After I made that call to her parents, I was done. I didn't have her back. I had my problems. My burdens. My weight. And I couldn't stomach what she was doing. I knew that she let A walk all over her, and I had no doubt that this guy was doing it, too. It's not like I stopped accepting Jen's calls. She stopped making them. It does run both ways. Do I wish that I had done it differently now? Yes. I was hearing about abuse. I just didn't know it. I didn't know what it looked or sounded like. I do now. I love this clip for two reasons. The song lyrics (obviously) and the superhero. I sort of have a hero complex. Everyone deserves at least one save in their lifetime. Actually, it would be really nice to get a do-over. Those are only worth anything if you can remember what you did wrong the first time, though...
Where was I? Oh yeah, not speaking to Jen and not getting that she is being verbally/emotionally abused. Also had my own bad experience with the Long con. Man that sucked. Oh, my other friend, Jennifer got married somewhere in there to a fellow named Dave. It was his second marriage and he had two boys. She had her hands full even though he wasn't the primary custodial parent. They were both in school working on graduate degrees. My mind is deserting me. You know... the upper level stuff. And they were working. Obviously, they were busy.
I moved to GA with mom and went through what I think of as the Seinfeld years in terms of my dating life. That isn't what this blog is about. Then I met and married the man who is now my ex. His kids moved in and I started to understand a lot of stuff that I didn't get before. Wait. Back up. In 1999, Sue invited me to go to Europe with her. It was this company trip she had to go on. Jen went the previous year to Australia. Yes, they were still talking. Just before I left, Jen called me on my cell. It was terrible timing. I was rushing around like a crazy person. However, it was soooo good to talk to her. Sue and I spent our two weeks abroad. Jen was still with the horrible guy. Sue gave Jen her house key so that Jen would take care of her cats. Well, that was THE dealbreaker all the way around. Again if you will refer to the blog I already wrote it explains this. You can click here. But, what happened severed their relationship permanently. And it stuck me squarely in the middle. The ball was in my court to call Jen back. If I did, I would alienate Sue. If I didn't, my relationship with Jen was likely over.
This is cranking up my migraine just thinking about it. Again, I didn't understand where Jen was living. I didn't call her. Fast forward to my own life and marriage and I completely understand where Jen is living. However, the circumstances remain the same. Then, Sue's sister (who she was never that close to) is killed in a car accident. Her vehicle was hit by a drunk driver. Sue was pregnant at the time (this is a very big deal b/c it was not easy). I don't know if she shut all of her friends out, but I know she shut me out. She said that she pretty much was only able to deal with her family and work. Period. I was okay with that. I thought that it would last for a fewmonths. It turned out to be years. I think it was six years ago. We used to talk on the phone all of the time. We have talked on the phone maybe twice since then. I guess she's still not ready. If I had known, I was going to get cut out like a bad fungus, I might have thought things through a little harder on how to handle things with Jen.
I know that video is intended more for romantic relationships. In fact, I feel that way about Right Guy whenever I hear it, too. So, it's a toss-up for me. Phoenix posted a blog about how painful it is when friendships end. It really can be more painful than the other kind. You know that a romantic relationship might go bottoms up. You expect your best friends to stick. When they don't, it's a kick in the teeth. I suppose that this might have been karmic payback. I chose one over the other. And then other dropped me and chose not to pick me back up. So there I lie.
In the middle of my horror of a marriage, Jennifer called. That would be the friend from high school. She is now out in California with Dave. She is frustrated. She is working on her PhD (I think that is as high as you can go) and working. Dave has quit the class thing. I don't know if he hit the pinnacle or just decided he was done. I think it was the latter. Anyway, he is not working at all. Or maybe part-time. Either way, it is not enough to keep their boat afloat. She is exhausted and non-confrontational. She knows the old me (before marrying my ex) who was kick ass and very confrontational when the situation required. That is why she called. She needed some kick ass infusion. Interestingly enough, I had it in abundance for other people. Just not for me. So, I gave her the pep talk that she wanted. The "you need to pull your weight in this marriage" speech. I can't remember if they had their baby yet or not. I gave her the speech that I needed to give my own husband. (Somebody shoot me.)
They were another couple who had a terrible time getting pregnant, btw. I did get the annual Christmas letter and I think it was not long after that conversation that the baby news came. The next year it was a picture of baby Jessica. The next time it was by email, and it was to find out that Dave had died of cancer. That was why he was so tired. By the time he finally saw a doctor the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes. I told her to tell him to get off his butt and get a job. Terrible advice. I should have told her to get him to the doctor tomorrow, if not sooner. If I had given her THAT advice they might have caught his cancer before it spread to his lymph nodes. That phone conversation is the last time we actually talked. It's all been email since then. I am not sure I can bear to actually talk to her. Or maybe she can't bear to actually talk to me. If so, I can't say that I blame her. Really terrible advice.
Okay, that is four of my instant connects down. That only leaves Right Guy. You can read about that crash and burnhere.
What is new on that front? Well, nothing really in terms of actual stuff. In terms of me accepting that I need to let go that there will ever be anything... well, that is where I still get hung up. I understand now all of the things that I did wrong in that relationship. I also understand that all of those things were magnified by like a 1000 for him because he is bipolar and refuses to take medication for it. If you're sitting there thinking, "Well, that probably wasn't the healthiest relationship for you in the first place." You have a point. However, it is impossible to fight an instant connect. You don't get that many in your lifetime. I've had five. What I didn't have was an understanding of the disorder. I am not sure, even now, that I fully get it. I understand it better. Anyway, I know that I need to let him go. If he finds his way back to me... he does. If he doesn't, he doesn't. Instead, I find myself listening to this song a lot and coming up with a lot of unpleasant imagery. (Thank you Bath.)
And I actually sent him this video shortly after we moved here. I am pretty sure he didn't watch it since his pattern these days is pretending I am invisible.
So, yes, I know what drowning feels like. I don't like to talk about it. The more you talk about it, the more you feel it, the more you feel it, the more other feelings like it start to build on it. Negative builds on negative. This ~ this whole relationship deal ~ friends and boyfriends are like a big sucking chest wound that I have a band-aid on. I have a bunch of gauze wrapped around that. I don't know how to fix it. So, I focus my attention on other things that I do know how to do. By doing that, I don't bleed out. I can still find the good and the pretty in lots of things. And, maybe this whole thing will work a bit like forgiveness. My desire for it to work out will be enough. When I am in harmony for that which I desire it will come to be. It has to be so. The law of attraction dictates that it is true.
