I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of using hand sanitizer everywhere I go; having to wear a mask every time I go out; having to disinfect my shoes and purchases every time I come in…being constantly vigilant in order to not become ill or to (gasp!) become a carrier.
I suppose it’s bad enough that I have no friends, other than a handful of very nice people that have incredibly busy lives. It’s tough to make new friends at my age. Making friends is a commitment. It’s a thing you nurture with time and deliberation. By the time one is in one’s middle age, the difficulty lies in having a set life: friends and family routines are usually solidified now and adding someone new might not be welcome. If it is, there can simply be the difficulties of scheduling.
I have attachment issues as part of my mental and emotional difficulties (along with clinical depression and generalized anxiety disorder), so this is extra challenging for me. It’s hard for me to remain logical and understanding of these difficulties when they arise. I always think it’s something I’ve done. Sometimes it is something I’ve done, and I never get to find out what that is. I just get cut off—no more invitations to a person’s events, no more contact, nothing. Ghosted.
So there’s that, too.
My most recent ones are fairly recent: one of them happened a few months before I found out I had cancer, and the second one while I was undergoing cancer treatment. Mentioning this, it must sound as though the fact I was suffering from cancer I should not have had to also suffer friendship loss, but what I actually mean to do is simply recall the timing in my life; on my personal roadmap. It’s possible I could mean both. When I connect the dots and timing, both of them stem from comments I made concerning what comes off as my brutal honesty, though if these people were really my friends in the first place these comments should not have had this result.
And for the one person, I have to say to myself, “Good riddance!”, since that was apparently a fake friendship based on some sort of fantasy the person had about me for many years. I’ve lost what little respect I had for them entirely, as they have no principles. Yuck. As for the other, it seems to me they contradicted themselves in their actions versus their earliest words to me, and I again have to decide it’s okay to let our paths diverge.
Not that any of this means anything at this moment in time, what with social distancing in effect for who knows how much longer. And now, there’s also a curfew. Not that I needed or wanted to go out all that much, but having the right to do so taken away from me makes me bridle. It doesn’t matter whether or not there’s a “good reason” for these things. This is how I feel, and feelings don’t operate within the boundaries of logic. That’s the point of feelings.