Some friendships just drift away, there's no real ending, and there's no feeling of animosity between the two. It just happens. But others, oy. There's a turning point. Is there a turning-back point? That's what I've been thinking about lately.
My old friend Pam and I broke up a few years ago, but she's been weighing heavily on my mind recently.
Our break-up came at a time when we were both mentally deficient. I was struggling with my bipolar disorder and a deep depression, and she was struggling as an unemployed single mother, who couldn't work, who was forced to move in with her cruel mother and she was likely depressed too. She and I had drifted since her daughter was born, but rekindled our friendship probably because of connecting on Facebook.
She sold all of her belongings on eBay and then her PayPal account got hacked. She tried to work but then had painful bouts of rheumatoid arthritis. Her baby daddy was incomunicado, she received no child support. And her daughter had a chronic illness that kept her going to the children's hospital where she lived, about 90 minutes away.
So we started talking on the phone, emailing again, laughing. We laughed about the weekends down the shore and the fondue party and the partying in Philadelphia and my wedding. She appeared desperate though. Her living situation was getting worse and worse. Her self-esteem was in the toilet. Actually, at that time, mine was too. I was emotional and weepy. But I was excited about being friends again.
Then she said, "I would love to come and visit you." But her car was not running. BUT she could borrow her brother-in-law's van, which wasn't reliable either but she thought she could scrape together some gas money and bring Chloe and visit me. "It'll be so good to get away from here!" she enthusiastically said. I told Salty D. and my parents, who knew her too. They were not enthusiastic. They said I wasn't seeing the situation well. I talked to Therapist Jan about it. She agreed with my supporters.
What would Pam do in my town without money? Would I be spending my non-profit salary to feed and entertain her and her daughter? How long would she stay? What if the van broke down? What if her daughter needed immediate medical attention? What if she tried to sell my stuff on eBay?
So I went from being stoked about seeing her to realizing that it wasn't going to be a good time. And I sent her an email message, saying that I didn't think it was such a good idea after all, that I was concerned about her daughter's well-being and needing to be near her doctor. I didn't say to her that I wasn't well enough myself to host her, or that my support team thought it was a bad idea, and what if the stupid van broke down.
She responded to my email with one word. "Wow."
I felt so bad. But I didn't respond. I blocked her on Facebook. I didn't want her shaming me or anything like that. But she had nothing more to say.
After a while, I let it go. I let her go. But lately I've been thinking about her again. Her daughter must be in high school now, and hopefully isn't sick. Were they still living with her cruel mother? Did Pam get a job? Is she homeless? Does she hate me? Did she ever get any money from the scuzzball baby daddy? So, I don't know if I want to re-open this or not. I'm in a healthier position now but I'm still anxious thinking about her predicament and getting sucked in.
Deep breath. I think I'll let it go. The end.
So, the friendship ended with a "Wow."
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