I live in a figurative cave that is of my own making (although I suppose of my depression’s making would be more accurate). I have pushed nearly everyone out of my life, and while that is occasionally lonely, it feels much easier.
My oldest friend keeps trying to remain in my life, even though I don’t allow her in. It’s been over a year since I last saw her, and almost as long since I last responded to any of her messages. Yet she stubbornly continues texting me every few months.
She texted again a few days ago to ask how I’m doing. I thought about whether I should respond or not, but then realized I wasn’t there yet. Even if I wanted to respond, what on earth would I say? This is someone who has a normal life and does normal things, and I just feel so far removed from that. I feel like we live in totally different worlds. It’s not that I don’t think she cares; I know she does. Maybe what scares me is that I would be reminded of what I’ve lost, and what I can’t do any more. There’s probably more to it than that, but I feel a strong sense of revulsion at the thought of interacting with her. And it’s not anything about her; she knows about my illness and has always been supportive and nonjudgmental. It’s 100% about me.
I got an email from my brother yesterday. He said this friend had contacted him to ask if he’d talked to me recently. The idea of them talking about me was disturbing. It’s not that they would say anything “bad” about me, but it just doesn’t sit well with me. Part of me feels annoyed with my brother, although logically I know there’s nothing to be legitimately annoyed about.
I thought writing this post might help me figure out in my own head why I’m feeling a messy jumble of emotions about this, but I’m still feeling just as jumbled. I hate what I’ve become, and I know that’s not fair and I don’t hate the self that’s at the core, but this has caused a bit of a stumble. I’ve stumbled before, though, and like before I will pick myself back up and carry on.
Image credit: Glavo on Pixabay