Thursday, June 14, 2007

I heard from one of my high school friends the other day. We keep in touch via email every few months and see each other about once a year. She’s the one out of that group of friends I’ve remained closest to and kept the most regular contact with.

She had some news and pictures to share. I wrote back and told her what Peanut, Hubby, and I are up to and asked about her family. I also told her about Mom.

I haven’t heard anything back. It could be that she’s busy. It could be that she doesn’t know how/doesn’t want to respond. It could be something else. I hyper-analyze her lack of response.

I hate that.

I hate the stigma associated with mental illness. The weird looks, the silence. I’ve made other friends uncomfortable by talking about Mom. I hate feeling like I have to edit what I say for fear of scaring them off. They’re my friends, dammit, and I should be able to share this with them. Not only is my mom in a bad place, I am too. I need friends to talk to, shoulders to lean on. But when I talk about it to people other than family or one particular friend (who has been through depression and whose husband exhibits a lot of bipolar tendencies), I end up regretting it. I start to wonder: Is that person going to avoid me? Have I lost that friend?

1 comment:

stefanierj said...

And then there are those of us who have been through it or are going through it and totally get you and are glad you share because it makes us feel not so alone. Spill it. If they are your friends, they'll be there for you and if not, screw it because jeez, who needs that from friends? I get enough flak from people who don't give a rat's ass about me or my family.