All hail the rude awakening - a novella
The words stung. I knew they were coming and they were well deserved but they still stung. A pail of water on an already drowning woman, I forced a few deep breaths in an effort to calm myself lest I start balling in front of the 22 y.o. young man now seated directly outside my office.
This certainly wasn't where I expected to be but I've been ignoring the inevitable for so long and the inevitable hasn't taken kindly to being ignored. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
From the surface to my core, I'm a seriously flawed individual. For the most part I keep my shit to myself - my blog being my only real outlet for the abundance of insecurity, self-loathing/doubt/reflection that riddles my mind. I don't like sharing it with people. Sure, I recognize that we all share some sort of common experience but well-intended wonderful people come back to me with advice and relation tales that just don't ring of relation - I'm left feeling even more isolated and alone than I felt before I shared the problem or feeling. So, I just don't share.
Add it to my list of serious flaws.
Here's another - over the years, I've learned not to expect anything from people. You expect things from people and they just disappoint you. What I've failed to recognize is that this doesn't absolve you from the expectations of others.
This month marks three years in New York. It's the longest I've been in any one place since law school. My life has been transient since I left home for college fifteen years ago. Fifteen years, seven different cities and an address book full of wonderful friends from one coast to the other. I've been there for the weddings, called off weddings, the divorces, the birth of babies, the death of a husband, cancer, surgeries, house sitting, cat sitting, dog walking - I've been there. I've racked up more frequent flier miles to spend time with my friends, bachelorette parties, funerals, weddings, showers. I've been there.
Husbands, new last names, babies...the onus always resting squarely on me. To pick up the phone, make the travel reservation, buy the bridesmaid dress, send the gift be it shower, wedding, baby...most at times when Ted and I were struggling. We've always been struggling.
I always found a way to make it all work without a second though. The love I have for each one of these people overshadowed any material cost. They were worth the struggle. So, I incurred the debt - I've never been a stranger to debt. I was happy to incur it even.
There were also times when I just couldn't do it. I simply couldn't put the Williams and Sonoma Salt and Pepper shakers or the certificate to Baby Gap on the card for friends already living in McMansions, driving luxury cars and carrying handbags I could only covet.
With each gift left unpurchased, with births missed, birthday cards unacknowledged I gave myself fifty lashings. I wish I only gave myself fifty. I felt (feel) absolutely overridden with guilt because I carried each one of these indiscretion on my conscience. I failed them. I retreated. I failed them again. For the first time in my life, I found myself absolutely unable to be the friend that I had prided myself in being.
I became absolutely overwhelmed and burdened by the guilt I was feeling. When I did "man up" and reach out to friends, I plied them with the mea culpas I felt I owed them. Never once thinking it was okay to forgive myself for having limits. I made easily forgivable situations a million times worse by promising to make it up to them. I over promised and then buried myself and tarnished my image by under delivering. Promising to make it up to someone with a trip. Promising a trip when I'd used all my vacation time for my own wedding. Sure, I'd committed the horrible act of missing a birthday but now I was making promises I couldn't keep. The friend who misses birthdays was bad. The friend who makes promises she can't keep - not as easily forgiven.
Here's where I stop and insert a point of clarification. I am fully aware that I did this to myself. No one did this to me. I got myself to this place with absolutely no pushing. I am not blaming anyone else for this. I'm not bitter with anyone. I'm only disappointed in myself. First, for getting myself to this place. This place where I find myself now...so far gone. Second, I'm deeply saddened by the fact that I let people down by promising more of myself than I had to give. I never should have done that. Third, I'm disappointed that I've never learned to say "no" to things. I shouldn't have been in some of the weddings I was in but I wanted to be. I want to be included in everything. Not only is it more than a little sad and pathetic, frankly, I couldn't afford it. I had no business trying to do all these things. I didn't have the time, money, vacation time to plan bachelorette parties, showers, etc.
I'm also not trying to suggest that I was a martyr. Lord knows, I've been far from the perfect friend. What I did was try to pretend that I was and that I could be. I don't know why I ever thought I could be so many things to so many people. I can't. I never could. I'm not cut from that cloth. I have a finite amount of energy. I'm horribly selfish. YET, I desperately wanted to be that person to these friends and I tried to pretended that I could be. Over extending myself, I tried to be the best friend to too many people.
My performance? Spotty at best. I'd get a card out early and a gift in the mail one year but the next I'd realize I missed it two or three weeks after the date and embarrased by the prospect of more mea culpas, I'd hide. AVOIDANCE was my coping mechanism. That and alcohol.
It needs to be said, that through this, I also failed the most important person in my life, my boyfriend-now-husband, Ted. My very best friend, the person who gets me and asks nothing of me but my time and I've spent so much time failing others and obsessing about how I'm failing all these people I've failed the singular most important person in my life.
Cause here is the other truth. My friends have failed me too. I just got finished saying that they hold no blame and I stand by that. That said, had I not spent all this time apologize for being human and for the mistakes I've made - I might have a leg to stand on with this next point but sadly but being the always apologetic one, I've hacked away at the leg and knocked my own ass to the ground.
As I've said, I don't expect much from people but a few years ago I realized something...the only person over committing herself, spending money she didn't have and hopping on planes for weekends cross country was me. I was getting calls when people needed to talk to me about their problems - I've made myself a great listener but no one was calling me to tell me how much they miss and love me. How they can't believe it's been so long since they've seen me and how desperately the want to spend time with me. No one else was getting on the fucking plane. Fuck, they weren't even EMAILING!
This is particularly tough to face in light of something that happened right around the time I moved to New York. Around this time, I began to battle the worst depression I have ever faced in my life. I was in a constant battle with thoughts I never ever wanted to entertain. I might not have been sharing but it didn't take a rocket scientist to see that I was in desperate need of help. When I got right, I mentioned my disappointment to a few people and I got answers. They weren't the answers I needed nor the ones I deserved.
In spite of all this, I was still killing myself because I felt like I was letting everyone down without taking a moment to realize, no admit to myself, that they were letting me down too. It's taken me years to acknowledge and truly recognize this fact, but there is no question I was aware of it's truth. As a result, I was constantly seeking the friendships of others. Needing new friends as the others rightfully lived their own lives - giving their attentions to their new husbands and subsequent children. My life was far from resembling the direction my friends' lives were taking them. I kept scrambling. Trying to add more people.
I don't know exactly when friendship became more about quantity over quality but you don't get more misguided than that. I suppose it was when I was packing my third bridesmaid dress into a cardboard box as I vacated our Boston apartment for Minnesota. All I know is here I sit feeling more alone than ever before. In a nutshell, whatever I've been doing hasn't been working. I've let more people down than I care to count but the person I've hurt the most is me.
So, here we are back to the beginning. A friend, one of the few who will get on the phone and tell me that they value me and they love me and they want to spend time with me, was telling me that she'd had enough of my bullshit.
The levies gave way. In that moment I realized how long I've been treading just barely keeping my head above water. Now I was choking on it.
As she told me she was tired of my bullshit, I realized that if I had any hopes of salvaging this friendship, I needed to let go of the bullshit too. So, here is my attempt to put it all out before me.
It's clear I've got to get my priorities in line. I've also got to stop apologizing for the fact that I can only give so much. I started this out by saying I'm flawed and I'm flawed.
My number one priority is my husband. I never see my husband. He works insane hours and I miss him terribly. I've got to stop pretending I have a lot time on the weekends because I want to spend my time with him. I've officially become that woman but I guess I've got to realize that there's a reason everyone before me became that woman too. Even with this, I still only get him half a weekend.
Next, I need to put more value and respect into the friendships that I do have. It's true, I can't maintain them all and it's inevitable that friendships will be lost. This is going to immeasurably difficult for me but its simply the way it has to be. Somehow, I'm going to have to accept that it's okay.
I bitch about my job but I'm still in an incredibly demanding, professional position. It's a job I still need. I'm also habitually overworked and underpaid. This is particularly true right now. I'm absolutely overwhelmed. I need to go home after work and mentally check out. I need this for both my mental and physical health. I'm fucking BUSY. I need to be realistic about the plans I make during the week. That said, my door is always open. I just can't make promises I can get to you.
I've got to establish boundaries. I can be an ear but I can't take on all the drama. This novella should prove that I've created enough drama of my own.
I've got to stop apologizing. Hopefully, if I get my priorities back on track, I won't feel the need to apologize any more. Even then, it's okay to make mistakes. It's not okay for repeated bad behavior but I'm hoping that if I can learn to make only the promises I won't have to apologize. I can be the friend I can be. The friends my friends deserve.
That's all I'm going to outline because this has taken a self-helpy stance that's getting hard for me to stomach. I may be turning over a new leaf but even I have limits! And I'm nothing if I'm not me. Deeply flawed and constantly mucking things up. Hopefully, I still have enough people who will love me unconditionally. Flaws and all.
I've you've made it here. Thank you for reading.
