Some musings on friendship

Not that I am much of a Bible reader anymore, by thinking over the events of the last several months has me remembering the adage of Proverbs 17:17:

“A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity (KJV).”

I know I’ve not been easy to be friends with lately–isolation, irritability, and mood swings that pull at least 3 Gs. But I am surprised most by the ones who stuck it out and helped me the whole way through.

Like the phone call from someone I would have categorized as a business associate. I was so surprised, I used the cover story about my blood pressure being elevated. I mean it was, but doctors don’t usually keep you in the hospital for 5 days to monitor your BP, and certainly my sister’s message accompanying the number where I could be reached must have raised some eyebrows: don’t use her last name, just ask for Tiffany.

I’m also surprised by some of the traffic, small as it might be, of people commenting on my blog posts. For example, someone I’ve not seen in over 2 years, who I was pretty sure did not consider me a friend anymore, and who lives on the other coast. I guess the Apocrypha do have some valuable advice:

“Forsake not an old friend; for the new is not comparable to him: a new friend is as new wine; when it is old, thou shall drink it with pleasure. (Sirach 9:10).

Friendship is a theme today because the only blog I seem to be able to keep up with mentioned it, too. Jon Cousins wrote a blog entry entitled Where do you belong? today. The thought for today is to “[p]articipate in activities with people who share your interests.”

Of course, my interests have become rather narrow. Between my declining physical health and my unstable mental health, the immanent move and the unending packing, and the gobs of paperwork I need to fill out and send to various offices, free time is something I Still have to fight for. And I’m tired. I also have a head cold.

I have tried to invite friends to share in some of my recovery activities like cooking more, knitting, walking, etc. but with only limited success.

So while I am feeling better on the whole, I am still not really being a good friend. And I can’t help but become a little sad when my Carlow writer friends are displaying pictures of all the wonderful things I missed in Dublin and talking about packets with excitement.

So, while I am trying to do better, I can’t make any promises. I am staring a 1-2 year recovery in the face. If anyone wants to stick it out, I will be very glad of the company.

Growing my very own digital “phone tree”

Ok, so I am not in the hospital right now. I am at home, post-counseling appointment. I have her cell phone to call her for any emergencies.

I guess, if I could think clearly, I am touched by the outpouring of concern from all of my friends. People I hardly ever see or hear from have made a point to contact me to let me know they are concerned. Thank you for showing that concern in so many ways.

But my cold dark reality is that I can’t accept that concern at the moment. Answering the phone, answering emails, opening the door…that all seems to take a huge amount of energy. And my adult friends seem to be an energy vacuum to me right now.

I don’t want to sound harsh, but I really need to be selfish of my energy right now. I have so little. Most of my energy goes to getting out of bed, remembering meds for me and Ashlie, feeding myself and the cats, trying to shower every now and then. On a very good day, I might get all of that done and can direct my attention to the house (dishes, laundry, sweeping the floor). I’ve not had a very good day in a very long time.

Since the 4th, I have lost a week’s worth of time through confusion along with uncontrollable crying and dizzy spells that made me feel like I was going to fall off the face of the earth. There were also bone crushing charlie horses, waking dreams states, and who knows what else.

Some of this was stress induced, some from my cycling, and some from Lamictal. Even once I stopped taking it, I got worse before I got better.

I am doing better today. But to call back every single person who called or contacted me would take all day. And I can’t spare the energy.

So my counselor suggested a digital phone tree of sorts. I will post this blog, and all the people who love and care about me can read it to see how I am doing.

This will have the added benefit of helping me get a better handle on what day it is. I can also use this as a platform for requests for practical aid. For example, Alexis, the simply amazing little girl who lives across the street and has helped me more than I can express, is going on vacation for a week. She usually goes with me on all of my errands. So if I find that I need a companion for a trip out, I will plan it here and any of my friends who live locally can volunteer if they want.

This makes me feel MUCH better than calling someone to see if they can help, only to hear that soul crushing hesitation in their voice that usually keeps me from ever calling in the first place.

So call off the hounds (one friend threatened to call the police even though she is in another country, not that I think the police could or would do anything in this situation), and I will change my Facebook picture (even though I do really like it).

I found this while typing “Leave me alone” into Google images. While I am NOT suicidal at the moment, I think it expresses a thought that is impossible to express in words when reaching a certain place of exhaustion and pain.

If you want to check in on me and leave messages of support, here is the place to do it. If you want to offer practical help, like one kind friend offered food, I would say just stop by. The house is still a bit of a mess (despite Lex’s best efforts), and I will be embarrassed if I’m un-showered, etc. But realistically, that is when practical help is needed the most, I guess. Just try not to be offended if I ask you to wait while I put on pants or to stay on the porch.

I think a brief visit would be helpful, uplifting even. But a pity party where you ask me to drag out the “whys” and “wherefores” of my depression, etc. is not helpful. Just exhausting.

I don’t know why I’m crying. I wouldn’t even grab “depressed” as the first term to describe myself! No, I don’t want to talk about how I didn’t go to Ireland, and how I ruined any hope of ever getting a higher degree. No, I absolutely DO NOT want to talk about my financial situation unless you owe me money, in which case, just fork it over. Yes, I would be glad to let you play with the kittens!