The worst thing for me to do is to ever regret any friendship. Every one of them have enriched me in one way or another. I had a long talk about this recently with my sponsor and she helped me realize that from the heartbreak of a childhood friendship gone terribly wrong and painful to those lost as an adult. From friends who have just moved on from my life to those who have been and (hopefully) always will be a part of me.
You all matter.
And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness for the thing I’ve done you blame me for. (But then I guess we know, there’s blame to share.) And none of it seems to matter anymore…
First you slip, then you fall. But sometimes, love and family catch you before you do either.
February 7, 2010
Here it is Sunday night and all I can think is “Oh, please, do not let this weekend end! I am not ready for Monday!“ I had a great weekend with my family and got a much needed mental break. Last week was hellacious. Horrible. One of the worst I have had in years. I do not want to get into details because suffice it to say that 1) I do not want to relive it and 2) I really don’t want to relive it.
Wednesday was just bad. For reasons I cannot get into (I am just not comfortable sharing since things here have been used against me in my real life), I was thrown into a really bad place. What amazed me was that a very dear friend of mine hundreds of miles away could tell- with only a few words- how bad off I was. In fact, she talked to me until I was doing better. She sent me phone numbers I needed and links to make sure I had some local backup. After seeing that I was doing better but needed to talk to someone in recovery, she reminded me of a mutual friend of ours that would be there for me in a heartbeat if I called him. I sent out an SOS message to him and we were almost immediately on the phone. The timing was not good and I knew he had things to do but he stayed on the phone with me for over an hour just getting me back on track and reminding me of who I am, where I’ve been and how hard I’ve worked. Together they helped get me out of my own head and back to a peaceful place. Two friends in two different states who care enough to come to the aid of a friend.
I have to state the obvious here but I really, really do hate addiction. Here I am with almost 10 years of hard work and recovery and yet there are times when I am just as vulnerable- sometimes I think even more vulnerable- than I was just 10 months or even 1o days clean.
I woke up feeling better and happier on Thursday. I had a good day despite a very difficult morning of struggles and that afternoon was so grateful that Gabby and I were able to spend a couple of hours catching up with good friends. That night it was all throw to hell and everything came tumbling down on my head.
I lost it in a way I have not lost it in years. It was the first time in many, many years that a situation came along that filled me with such despair, pain and desperation that I feared for myself. In my head at that time, I no longer cared about anything but not hurting. I didn’t care about the 10 years of hard work. I didn’t care about anything I have accomplished in the past decade. I didn’t care what it would do to me, my kids or anyone else around me. All I wanted was to not hurt like I was hurting. I wanted to drown myself in the momentary release that being high gave me. All I wanted was to escape. To get away from the life of hell that was baring down on me and about to swallow me whole.
Escape.
Escape.
For the love of all things peaceful, I had to get away from the pain!
I had to let someone know I was going to slip fall hard.
But I didn’t want to say it because right then, right there, I wanted to fall. I wanted to give in. Ten years of saying no when I hurt. Ten years of “talking through it” and “finding alternatives” when I felt horrible. Ten years of staying strong when I really did not want to be. None of that mattered. I was willing to throw it and myself back to hell.
A friend of mine who knew only a third of my story and half of the pain I was in came over and wanted to make sure I cleared out any medications or alcohol in my house. If she knew only half and knew to just come over and get things out of my house, can you imagine how bad I actually was?
Again, there were phone calls- this time it was Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200, Go Directly to AA.
I talked to people in recovery who got me back on track. I talked to people who really knew me and spilled it out. I talked to friends late into the night. I cuddled up with my kids who saw me almost lose it for the first time ever in their lifetime and let them know I was okay. Cuddled the fear out of them.
I snuggled up with my husband and told him everything. I felt him tense. I knew a part of him wanted to bite his tongue and resist the urge to give me advice. He just listened as I worked through it. I know how hard it is on him when I hurt and feel so hopeless. I know it breaks a part of him every time I feel broken. I know it makes him feel helpless when I let life beat me down and head into a tailspin. But he always stands by me and loves me. He listened. He let me pour it all out. He didn’t judge (me) and didn’t blame (me) but listened, loved and waited for me to work through it knowing he was standing there as my safety net.
Friday, I woke up feeling like I had gone 10 rounds with a heavy weight fighter. I guess in a way I did. I fought my demon.
And I won.
It took a while on Friday to work through things but again, it took talking on the phone with people who really do know me and being with people this weekend who really do accept me for who I am that made me realize that things have to change. For me. For my family. For my sanity and sobriety. Things have to change. And I have hard work ahead of me but I am not alone. I just know things have to change.
In a huge way.
And I have started to take steps to go back to being me and not anyone else’s version of me.
Right before school started in August, my daughter’s best friend moved away. She only moved 3 hours away, but it certainly wasn’t local anymore. I’ve watched how this has changed Gabriella. It is in subtle ways that unless you know her, you may not see it.
She seems a little lost, I hear close friends of ours say.
She and her best friend met the first day of kindergarten and formed a bond immediately. It’s not like they were joined at the hip 24/7, but they did a lot of things together. When they were apart they still knew someone always had their back. They knew that in any new situation or circle of friends, there was always someone they could count on and lean on or just simply have the comfort of knowing they would be there.
Where is my safety net to catch me when I fall or my tether to keep me grounded? I see her wonder.
I have talked to her about it a few times. She usually just shrugs and moves on, unable to find the words to express what she feels or misses or is searching for.
I get it! I tell her
You see, Gabriella’s best friend’s mom was one of my best friends. She was my safety net. My tether to keep me grounded. The one I knew always had my back. The friend where I could always and would always be myself.
She seems a little lost. They say about me.
I do for myself what I try to convince Gabriella to do: Branch out. Let yourself be open to new friends. Accept invitations to be with new people. Let your guard down a little bit. Okay, let your guard down a lot.
But where is my safety net to catch me when I fall or my tether to keep me grounded? I don’t know anymore!
One thing she has learned even though she is only in third grade is people form their “tribe” early. Most of the girls in her class have been going to the same school for 4 years now. They have their best friends and their tribes. It isn’t written but it is there. She’s made new friends. She’s joined new groups. Yet, she still searches for her tribe. She searches for where she belongs somewhat afraid to let her guard down without knowing someone has her back. I see her searching and wish I could just plunk her down in a group and let her feel “established” there. But, I can’t do that. She has to find her place and her tribe on her own. And it hurts to watch.
It is no different with me. Try as I might, I cannot fit into the tribe that I am around the most either. I try to accept invitations (when offered), I try to join in on the laughter (when it isn’t an inside joke) and I try to open myself up and not keep them at arms length.
Apparently, I am not very good at it. At not keeping people at arms length. No matter how hard I try. I can’t help but wonder if maybe jumping in the way I did was the wrong thing to do.
Maybe I am just a loner and just really put that vibe out there.
Maybe I am incapable of social interaction that lasts longer than a lunch.
Maybe it is the addict in me that doesn’t know how to just let go and get involved.
Or maybe I just really don’t fit in.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that I would give anything for my daughter to be happy and for me to figure out the secret to leaving loneliness behind and embracing new friendships. For now, I will do what I always do…the only thing I know to do: Smile and laugh and never let ‘em know it hurts. (Well, that and start looking at places for a fresh start.)
I had no intention of writing about blogging as your passion and then not blogging again for weeks. I suppose that is the trouble with blogging your life– sometimes life gets in the way of blogging. Things have been so busy and overwhelming, i don’t even know where to start.
I will start with one and just post others as I have time. (Including helping clean up and pack my childhood home so my Dad can move and becoming and stumbling with being the elementary school’s PTA president.)
Last weekend my daughter’s best friend moved. They have been best friends since kindergarten. When you are in third grade, that is practically a lifetime. That is a hard transition for a kid. What makes it harder is that her best friend’s mom is also one of my best friends. We certainly feel the loss of this family deeply.
I suppose it helps my daughter to see that she is not alone in the feeling of loss. We spent last Saturday evening after they left snuggled under blankets watching movies. Of course, I would have chosen different movies, but in this case the movies of choice were High School Musical 1 and 2 and started on 3 but it became too late to get through it. (I know. It is heartbreaking to have not finished the 3 movie marathon.)
For Gabriella making new friends or bonding with friends she has known in her class but she was not close to is a bit easier. You just start playing games on the playground or sit with them at lunch or even share your coolest toys. I wish it was as easy for an adult like me.
When I was talking to my sister I compared it to being divorced. You are still there and you still there and you still have the same people in your life but your “partner in crime” is gone. It is hard to try to open up again in a new way with old friends when you are, well, old(er). They have their “groups” and the people they do things with already firmly established. How do you break into a new group when you have never been a part of it before. Adults can be set.
Don’t misread me. I am not sitting home all alone whining about “poor me” for feeling alone. I am trying to open myself up to new opportunities and new friends. I am just not as good as it as I was in 4th grade when it was easy to just assume that of course it is okay to just say “Let’s be friends!” and you have a new group of friends to run with when you want it.
When I find myself worrying about it, I take a step back and think about my friend. She is in a new city, a new home, a new school with none of the familiar things around her that she has come to know so well living here for over a decade. I at least have familiarity. I talk to her and do what I can do to help her realize how wonderful she is and how she will be surrounded by new friends in no time. Every ending brings with it a new beginning. Her ending of her life here is a fresh new beginning for her. And, by the same token, I need to remember that her moving (an ending for me) is a new beginning for me as well. I just need to figure out how to embrace that.
For now, I am taking my daughter’s lead and opening up to new experiences and new people. And? Trying to figure out how to open up to the “older/familiar” friends that have been in my life. Sometimes my brain just takes me back to high school mentality. I admit it. I feel like the geek girl trying to break into the “popular girl” clique. Maybe I should buy a shirt that says, “My BFF just moved…wanna be my friend?”
Or maybe that is overkill.
Or maybe I am just really hard to approach. I don’t know.
What I do know is that change makes us grow. This past month I have seen plenty of “growth” to last me for a year. So, I am giving a shout out to life….Settle down. I need to catch my breath.
Last week I was feeling very out of sorts. I was doing that whole (pointless) survey of my life so far that always gets me grouchy. Don’t get me wrong. I do love my life. I have a wonderful husband and three amazing kids. I am able to stay home and have a job that I love. I mean, really, what is there to be out of sorts about?
I suppose it had more to do with the “Who Am I?” question rather than “Am I Happy?” question. Because I am happy. Sometimes I just get bogged down in my titles and not my personality. I became a wife at 20, a mom at 23, and a responsible (HA!) adult sometime in the past couple of years. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror I wonder who that middle aged woman is who is looking back at me. Mid-life crisis? Nah. Just an overall wondering if I have let who I need to be, who I should be and who I am expected to be push aside who I really feel I am inside. Does anyone recognize who I am inside? Am I still that person?
Then out of the blue like a cool glass of water for a parched soul, I got a phone call from one of my oldest and dearest friends. A friend I have not spoken to in years. As in well over a decade. He and I were inseparable in high school. We were like a comedy duo. Not only did we thoroughly entertain each other, we kept others in stitches. Oh, how we laughed together! But even more than that, we could tell each other anything. And we did. He knew me. I mean, he really knew me and everything about me. It was just the kind of friendship where I couldn’t hide who I was even if I tried. It was through our friendship I learned how to laugh through the tears, how to laugh at the ridiculous things in life and simply how to enjoy life and laugh my way through whatever comes my way.
We went to separate colleges. I got married. He moved. We lost touch. For years I looked for him. But? Sometimes you just need to fall off the grid to find yourself. I understand that. But now, we found each other again. And oh the laughter! We talked on the phone for well over an hour catching up on everything under the sun. Laughing at everything under the sun. Sharing the pains we went through over the years as well as the celebrations. It was like going back in time. Even after all these years, he saw me. He saw ME.
And I cannot even tell how much it meant to me and how much it soothed my soul. He said things to me that I needed to hear. I needed to hear them from him, to be precise. At one point after dishing and laughing and just sharing life, he got quiet for a minute and said, “Darling, you haven’t changed one bit!”
I blew him off and told him how much I had changed. How I had so many titles and so many hats that I barely recognized myself some days.
He laughed and said it again. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
I argued a bit more and tried to give him evidence of ways that I was not that fun loving, laughing, silly, optimistic and free spirit girl he used to know.
After a sigh (that really spoke volumes if you know him), he told me that after talking to him for just an hour and letting my guard down he could tell that I had obviously grown up in age and taken on adult responsibilities but underneath it all, I was still the same girl he knew and loved “back in the day” even if I couldn’t see it.
Even if I could not see it.
Sometimes maybe it takes someone from your past to see it. Someone who knew you before life piled itself on you. Someone who was there as you were becoming who you are today. Maybe it takes someone like that to hold a mirror up to your soul to show you that you are indeed still the person you have been missing.
I haven’t lost me. I guess I just sometimes forget to let “ME” out often enough to remember how much fun life is and how much I really do enjoy life, laughter and just being myself.
Boy am I glad I didn’t screen that call. I would have missed an hour of laughs and a reminder of me.
Thank you, Harvey, my old friend. You always knew how to make me keep it real.
I owe a deep thanks to a commenter who virtually smacked me upside the head with something that I really needed to hear. Kelley of magneto bold too! said something in her comment that picked me up, shook me and made me realize what is holding me back. I am going to post her comment in case you missed it. (But why would you miss it? You are reading my posts and commenting, right?)
I got rid of the toxic people long ago. Helps to have a kid with Autism, really brings out the true colours in people.
But you need to get rid of the toxic feelings at the same time. That one took a long time.
Good luck babe. I know you can do it.
You have no idea how much I needed to read that! I have to get rid of the toxic feelings first. And let me tell you something. I have some really toxic feelings about a few people who stabbed me hard last year. It is time to let that go and move forward.
Thank you, Kelley.
Now, share. What is holding you back from moving forward? What are you holding on to that is keeping you from finding the peace you need or the success you want? Let’s let it go together.
When you reach a milestone such as your 37th birthday, you tend to look back and reflect on your life. Realizing you are knocking on Mid-Life’s door, one might take inventory of her life. Pondering the events that led her to where she is now. Birthdays can bring out the nostalgia in many women. In fact, a mature woman would take this time to ponder life’s amazing blessings.
Yeah right! Good thing I am not one of those women!
I chose to celebrate by going out with my husband where I ate greasy, fried food and drank eleventy martini’s. Well, maybe not that many. But I tried several. Apple Martini. Toasted Almond Martini. Chocolate Martini. And then blah blah blah martini and yada yada yada martini etc but only the bartender, the waitress and Clint know what followed because I was just the one drinking them, not ordering them.
A mature woman would call her family to just connect and feel that sense of togetherness family brings. Perhaps a mature woman in her late 30’s would call her business partner and friend and just let her know how much she means to her.
I am SO NOT that woman. I called my sister–after my fun dinner out– and left her a message that went something like:
“Okay FINE don’t call your sister on her birthday. I mean your BABY sister who looks up to you and sat by the phone all day long waiting…waiting…waiting! No, I am SO kidding. I love you man. I do. You’re my hero. I am sooooo messing with you!” Then dissolve into a fit of giggles and hang up.
But wait, while I have the phone, it is absolutely vitally important that I call my friend and partner and discuss the deepest meanings of life…
“Hi! I know it is late and all but I totally felt like dishing with you. Tell me the gossip. I mean it. I need some serious dirt on someone. Make it up. Do NOT talk business because that is such a buzz kill…..I love you man. No really, I do…Do I tell you enough that I appreciate all you do? You ROCK…”
The call lasted so much longer than those few sentences, but really, neither you nor I need to hear what was said. Especially when you call said friend and partner the next morning and her first words are, “How’s that headache coming along?” (For the record, I have no headache. At all. Jumped out of bed at 6:00am good to go. So there!)
Anyway, thanks for the birthday wishes. Thanks for the fun times. Thanks for knowing that I am SO not the woman who is going to do a retrospective of her life but rather tell you about martini’s and “not as clear headed as I normally am” phone calls. It’s for that reason that love you, man! No, I really do!
[Update: For the record, here is a link to a huge list of various martini’s...made with vodka. They may not be by definition “true” martini’s but vodka martini’s. Call them what you want, just buy me one next time we meet! Ha!]
[Yet Another UPDATE: If you know me, you know my fun love of exaggeration. That would be this entry. Relax. I have not slipped back into making drunk calls, acting like a sorority girl and completely losing my mind. I didn’t think I needed to qualify that, but here I am doing that. Just an FYI]
My heart is breaking for my good friend, Busy Mom. Her mom passed away at 3:30 this morning. I have been there. I know the emails and comments mean a lot. Could you please go over there and share the love? It would mean a lot to her. And to me.
Lost and Found–friendships renewed through blogging
June 28, 2006
Okay, so I am all ready to (or fixin’ to if you are a Southern gal) post about other things I learned on vacation when I get an email comment. (Oh, and about one of the things I learned–total usage of the F-bomb, so people easily offended may need to look for the “f-bomb” symbol and move along when I post about that one. I’m just saying.) So anyway, I have to tell you why I love blogging and the Internet and Al Gore for creating it and Bill Gates for getting me online and spammers who have subject lines that make me laugh so hard I nearly pee. Okay, not so much the spammers, but I love everyone else.
As I am likely to be doing about a gazillion times a day, I am checking my email the other night when one comment really gets my attention. As I am looking at the sender’s name (I do that, you know), it strikes me as familiar but unlikely to be from the person I think. But as I read the email, the coincidence level was too high for it to be anyone else. I quickly rush off an email asking “Is it you? Could it be? After all these years?” I may or may not have made sense, but I was so excited. (Now, had this been a mistaken identity, this is where it would go from really cool to totally and hysterically embarrassing because I all but licked the email in excitement.) After nearly 11 years without seeing each other or catching up, my college roommate happened to have stumbled onto Mommybloggers and made a comment having no idea that I had anything to do with the blog. Just like that. Point A meets Point B and we are reconnected.
The very ironic, cosmic, fate-like thing about this is I have been trying to track her down for the last month or so. I guess I just wanted to see how she is and where she is and how life is treating her. Then BLAM the universe plops her right down in my bloggish lap. And guess what? She lives like 45 minutes from me. Here. Near me.
And I never would have known had something I written not struck a chord with her and cause her to comment. So Internet and Mommybloggers and the Universe…..MWAH! Thanks for returning my Smelly Melly! (Sorry, Mel, I could not resist after all these years!)
I chose to celebrate by going out with my husband where I ate greasy, fried food and drank eleventy martini’s. Well, maybe not that many. But I tried several. Apple Martini. Toasted Almond Martini. Chocolate Martini. And then blah blah blah martini and yada yada yada martini etc but only the bartender, the waitress and Clint know what followed because I was just the one drinking them, not ordering them.
