Recently, now that I feel like I’m “better” (or at least better-ish), I’ve been trying to go about my “normal” life. But going about my “normal” life again, after a pretty long period of it being not normal at all, is proving hard to me.
What even is my “normal” life anymore?
I’ve talked kind of a lot on here on about the toll this has taken on my relationships of all kind… Friendships have been hurt, whether it was just by pure vicinity to what happened, or by me seeming so confusing and annoying and distracted and whatever else, or just by general crummy life timing, or even by me almost purposefully pushing people away, because for a while I kinda wanted to be alone a lot.
And I imagine it is hard to just unconditionally love someone who is suffering so intensely – to know the right mixture of giving tough love of like, “You gotta leave the house” [or whatever] vs. pure understanding at the toughness of the situation and like, “Okay, let’s talk through whatever you need to again.”
It’s hard to keep in touch with someone (me) if they’re barely functional, and maybe not responding to all of your texts, or if they are, not doing it in any sort of timely manner. I mean, we’re taught social cues. And if someone isn’t being super responsive, yeah, it could mean that I sometimes don’t know how to talk to anyone or function anymore.
But for someone on the receiving end, it could also make them think, “Eh, maybe that person’s not so interested in continuing whatever this relationship is… Maybe we’re growing apart. I’m gonna let them be.”
Or even if they’re not trying to guess my feelings, maybe their feelings are, “If someone isn’t gonna put in effort to be my friend, I’m not doing it either. This isn’t worth it to me.” And that’s valid.
So, various friendships have fallen by the wayside.
And recently, I’ve been sort of on a bit of a mini “apology tour,” almost… Now that I’m feeling healthy-ish again (I think), I’m becoming more open to the idea of trying to rebuild my relationships. So, I’m writing some of the people for whom I’ve sort of fallen off the planet to say I’m sorry for that.
I’ve apologized to people for specific instances that I remember of going somewhere with them but then feeling like a ghost, because I was so distant. (Unfortunately, that also happened once kind of recently, so maybe I’m not quite as ready as I once believed. But, I’m just gonna try my best, I guess!)
But ultimately, some relationships have just suffered too much damage and look like they might not be repairable. And some aren’t necessarily irreparable, but enough time has gone by that somebody else has taken your place in that person’s life. They’ve kind of closed the gap of the friend, or acquaintance, or even possible girlfriend, or whatever it was that you were maybe gonna be for them.
The room in their life is no longer there. It’s not that they hate you. It’s just that you’ve been holed up in your room for a long time while other people’s lives have gone on, and now there’s just not the same amount of room for you anymore…
And seeing that is a little harder than I expected. I think part of me maybe sort of kind of somehow believed that everything would go back to the exact way it once was (even though I’m pretty sure I’ve literally stated in this very blog that it won’t). And yet, I think part of me thought that maybe this relationships piece would go back to the way it was. And that that would be some sort of magic metric that maybe “officially” says I’m better.
But that might not happen.
It sort of reminds me of this story [I guess probably more like parable, probably] this person shared with me at one point during my very tough time… He talked about this gorgeous, beloved vase being knocked over. And it was a bummer that the vase was in a bunch of tiny pieces on the ground. And it didn’t quite fit together the same way anymore. But, someone came along and picked up the pieces, and made it a plate.
It was still beautiful, and still very useful. (I mean, don’t most of us use plates more often than we use vases anyway?)
And at the time, I thought of it as a beautiful story of how life goes on and can become something else, but something still great.
And now, I’m just kind of taking it all in that even though the plate is still lovely and still serves a purpose… it’s no longer a vase. (And maybe I still want to hold flowers!)
And I know I’ve said I have to give up on the idea of certain things, or understand that there was/will be just some collateral damage – but living it… Coming out of the wreckage, and realizing all the things that have truly changed around me…. It’s hard. It’s different for me to “know,” and maaaaybe think I “accept” it vs feeling like it just crashes into me. I dunno. ‘Tis what it is, I guess…
[This is from the sexual assault series.]