Posts Tagged ‘friends’

Lately I’ve been feeling so numb and dead inside. I’m just disinterested in everything and going through the motions of my life without actually feeling anything or giving a shit. I don’t know if it’s because of the crappy weather or the stress of my health affecting my bipolar or what, but it’s so hard for me to muster any motivation. I can’t think of anything to say in a conversation or anything to write in an essay.

On the other hand, I’ve been making friends. Some of the other people in my classes have invited me out and I go sometimes. It’s fulfilling in one way, but completely exhausting in other. Trying to relate to people is so trying; I’ve been living in my own little bubble where I only have to think of myself and Koios and the effort of trying to make emotional connection with new people is so great that I want to curl into a little ball and hide.



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I’m a very private person. Trusting people doesn’t come easily to me. But sometimes I can’t help but look back at my life and see all the people that I had opened up to so much; people who aren’t my friends anymore.

I can’t believe that I let these people see so much of me. While I was awash in my own insanity I clung to them, letting them see everything in my mind. I had no filter at all and they saw everything. They saw me at my highest, speaking crazed plans for running about downtown and creating comic books together parodying our classmates and starting a band. They saw me full of paranoid delusions that my mom was going to send me to a mental hospital. They gave me a place to stay each time I ran away for a few days, fearing hospitalization or simply fearing my own power over my mortality. They would put up with my insane crying and wild depressions, complete with meandering conversations about the price of life.

There were so many of those people who served that function, at least a dozen total. Only two are still in my life. I wonder if those ex-friends think of me as I do them. I look back on our friendships and feel embarrassment and gratitude. I wonder if they see me as just a crazy bitch that they hung out with for a while. I wonder if they sit around, drinking coffee with one another, laughing when the conversation comes back to “You remember Ashes? What the hell was wrong with that chick?”. I wonder what their parents think of me after letting me sleep over uninvited because their child says that they’ll “explain why later”.

I keep these people alive in my memories rather than letting their time in my life fade away. I don’t know if that’s a good thing. I feel like my bipolar life can be summed up in the string of broken friendships that I trail behind me. The list of short-lived camaraderie has stopped growing by now simply because I don’t let myself get close to people anymore. I don’t want to have to remember another person in the past-tense. Without my bipolar forcing me to seek out others to help lift my burdens, I just don’t do it.

None of them stuck around other than Koios and Theia. Theia has been my friend for over 9 years. We went to the same middle school and high schools. She transferred to the alternative school that I was in a bit after I did. She’s seen all of my moods too, but she’s never shied away from them. She always speaks her mind about what I’m doing, but always in a supportive way. I know she cares about me. Theia is the perfect friend that I could ever ask for. I don’t know if she knows how much she means to me, even though I’ve tried to explain.

Theia and I are what I call “shit-weather friends”. Rather than a fair-weather friend, we’re there for each other when we really need it. We might go for almost a year without hanging out, but the second the other one needs support and a friend we’re there for each other. A few years ago, one of Theia’s friends died unexpectedly. I sped over to her house and we stayed up all night so I could comfort her. I can call her up crying for no reason and she’ll tell me to come over and we’ll talk about nothing and everything. Despite living lives that don’t often overlap, we’re still best friends when it counts the most.

While I wonder frequently about the people who used to be my friends, I know that the ones that are worth my time will stick around. I don’t fault those who were pushed away by my bipolar; I know I wasn’t (and still am not) easy to deal with. I think a lot of those friendships were too stressful for the other person, having to deal with my insanity and life of constant chaos.

Part of me still hopes that I can start getting close to people again now that my bipolar is more under control. I’m not sure if I remember how to have a normal friendship with someone that I haven’t known for years, though. Maybe I’ll have the chance to learn again.


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