Well, it seems that we live, but we don’t necessarily learn. I find it very sad and somewhat embarrassing that I am now very limited on friends. Since this blog is about being alone, it goes without saying that I don’t have a lot of friends. I did throughout the years and some have passed or moved far away, so I have excuses for some of them.
The ones I’m talking about are those that you thought would be you friends forever. That you’d be there for each other through thick and thin, you had their back and they had yours. I thought I had a couple of those friends…until my parents passed away. When my dad died, my mom seemed to develop dementia overnight. She then broke her hip and picked up C. diff (a horrible bacteria that causes severe diarrhea and many other things and is what ultimately caused her death) in the hospital. I was taking care of her 24/7 and could not be the carefree person I once was. I also was dead tired and depressed, so wasn’t very good company. I think that might be understandable.
Apparently not. One by one, my friends stopped calling. When they had called, they seemed disappointed that I wasn’t able to enjoy their funny stories or how great their life was going! I tried, honestly, but I know I wasn’t as enthusiastic as I would have been at one time. Well, I’m sorry…taking care of a dying loved one does that to you. They also didn’t want to hear anything about my problems or ask, with any sincerity, how I was doing.
With some of these “friends” it wasn’t that surprising, but with the couple I thought of as my true blue friends, it was heartbreaking. It was a very bitter pill to swallow. Fast forward to now and the recent loss of my brother. My neighbor and I had become friends and have gone through a lot of things together. I, once again, thought she was a close friend. I am having terrible anxiety problems and about two weeks ago, she informed me that I was just being weak and needed to get a hold of myself…among other things. She said to me everything you should never say to someone suffering from an anxiety disorder. We are no longer speaking.
So, that brings me to my current question. Have I been that terrible at picking friends? Am I a terrible judge of character, too needy that I ignore the warning signs, stupid…what? It amazes me that I have been so fooled by so many people. It also makes me wonder if I am not worthy of being a friend to. I am not putting a halo on my head, honestly, but I have always been more than “there” for my friends. I’ve helped them over and over and always been on their side. I have been supportive through thick and thin. What else does someone want?
I also wonder if people know how to be friends anymore. We have become such a “me” society. No one seems to care about anyone but themselves. They can’t be a good friend during the bad times because this would interfere with their own happy lives. Who wants to bother with someone who’s depressed or suffering? I think of the expression “fair weather friends” and it seems like that may be all that’s left out there.
As lonely as it is to not have many friends, I suppose I would rather have none than false ones. Hopefully, this latest betrayal has finally taught me something. Perhaps I need to look more closely at the people I invite into my life as friends. It has made me more cautious and maybe that’s a good thing. What about you? Have you experienced this same thing? Please leave a comment and tell me what you have been through. Or if you have found a way to only make good friends who are there for you. I always love hearing from you.