When all of your friends are breaking down into pieces of their former selves around you, what are you supposed to do? It’s something that I’m all too familiar with, if I’m honest, but I don’t mind that in the slightest: I’m always here to help anybody, whenever, wherever, and however I can. Besides, I’m all too used to calling upon friends to calm me down or `deal”‘ with one of my meltdowns, and so it’s only right that I do the same. All the same, when your two closest friends are both having breakdowns at the exactly the same moment in time, it begins to take its toll.
I’m writing this the morning after this all happened, because last night I was in no fit state to write a simple text message without deleting, rewriting, editing, and eventually scrapping the whole thing and starting over at least three times; writing a blog post was about as possible as me single-handedly flying to Venus and back, fueled merely by jelly beans.
I digress …
I suppose waiting until the morning to write this has given me time to clear my head, and write this post in a manner which makes sense to others besides just myself, which I’m glad about.
Last night, my two closest friends were not in good places: both were in tears, and both were in messy and dark situations. I’m not going to detail what was going on, because they’re entitled to at least a molecule of privacy. Regardless, though, I was on the phone, texting and speaking to both of them, trying desperately to calm them down, and help in whichever way I possibly could.
Don’t get me wrong: I never mind helping my friends out, because I know they’d do the same for me, and they mean so much to me, I’d do anything for them, if it meant that they could be happy. Still, after three-and-a-half hours of helping, desperately trying to pull people’s heads back up from beneath the surface, it gets tough. Really, really tough.
First, you feel the sadness — utter, complete, awful sadness, stabbing like a pain in the middle of your stomach. Next, though, is the sinking. I suppose it’s the theory of sheep: if everyone around you is sinking, drowning, then you can do nothing but follow by example. Everything negative starts appearing in yo mind — everything wrong with you, your life, your friends, your family, school… It’s as if your mind wants you to slip under, and if you’re tired and desperate enough, it’s easier to stop swimming.
And that’s what I did.
The smallest things — a slightly-less-than-amazingly-positive post on Facebook, for example — made me angry, and frustrated, and sad. Nobody around me was happy, and nor was I, and it hurt like shit but I pushed on because that’s what I do, but by pushing on I was just making it worse and worse and I got more desperate as time went on because there was nothing I could do and I knew it. Boy, did I know it.
By no means am I blaming the friends involved: far from it, in fact. If anything, I’m pleased that they spoke about it, and honoured and humbled that they spoke about it to me. It’s not their fault. It’s not their fault that I let my emotions get the better of me; it’s not their fault that I’m too sensitive; it’s not their fault that every word said but anyone around me is immediately taken in, over analysed and threatened over by me for days after. It’s not their fault.
I’m editing through this on Wednesday; I wrote this post on Monday morning, but honestly couldn’t bring myself to come back and read through it, in the messy state I was in. It’s odd just how relevant this post still is to me, although I suppose i did only write it two days ago. One of the two friends is still very down, and it’s still taking a huge toll o me, although it’s more because I can’t do anything about it, and it’s terrifying me. I feel so out of control, and so helpless, and I just want to help but I can’t. I realise how unbelievably selfish that sounds, but I hope you understand that it’s not intended in that fashion.
I want to post this though, as much as I wanted to on Monday morning, because I live in the hope that this isn’t just me, and that I’m not alone. And, in the case of this being an individual case, I want to share with you how it feels. I hope you understand that.