Friends are beyond valuable to me. The nature of an exchange is so fulfilling yet so dangerous. Making friends makes us vulnerable. We share the intimate details of our existence sometimes only to be rejected. We all build relationships for different reasons. Convenience, companionship, etcetera. Sometimes these friendships last and sometimes they don’t. Does anything in life really last forever? I know the answer to that already so its pointless to truly entertain that idea. Nonetheless, are we prepared for the ending? Certain things are so final and I am not so sure people understand that.
I’m recognizing that I lost one of my best friends today. I only have two so, you get the gist. There seems to be no closure. I was not prepared for this finality but here it is plain as day and for all intense and purposes I did see it coming. The flakiness…it is usually a sure sign that the end is near. I haven’t cried but I do feel pain. Emotions are still so unusual to me, so new. Foster care taught me to become immune to emotions so that I did not feel the pain of it all. Now as I have allowed myself to feel I still become stunned when I actually get that gripping feeling in my heart. It is so bizarre to feel that but I do, and it hurts. I call that feeling hurt.
I read someone’s blog today. She goes by LT and like me she grew up in foster care. Her pain is so real, so surface, so in your face that it is difficult for me to remember ever being like that. I don’t think I ever was. Nonetheless, I read her blog and last night she contemplated suicide. Again the FINALITY. How will we go? Will we choose when we are going or will we allow God to decide our fate. I recall times where being with God sounded good. Not because I wanted to die, but because I did not know how to live. Living with God meant no more pain, living in this world means pain is inevitable. That is the hard part. LT mentioned trying to fit in and it is hard. We (foster alumni) love hard, we seem more passionate, more connected to people or at least we try to be. We need so much more love than the average individual. I say average because society considers us “less than” because we did not have parents. That is where people do not seem to understand how much more of a fight it seems to be, to make friends, to fit in, to belong. We find ourselves struggling to love the way we want to be loved only to love the way we need to be loved. That is human nature by design. We love the way we see people should be loved, we give gifts the way we would want gifts. Whether it is sending ourselves flowers or treating ourselves to dinner. We want to do those things with other people so we extend ourselves in ways that disappoint us. Simply because that is how much we are yearning. Yearning for acceptance, yearning for love. The weird thing is that we are often, I am often so secure in myself that I won’t conform but I desire to be accepted as I am. “Warts and all”….but then rejection steps in and it becomes necessary to handle that.
How do we cope? We look to people and when they are not there we look to ourselves and that magnifies the loneliness then we look to an object or a subject to occupy our time and this is what is “supposed” to be healthy because at least it is not destructive right? What about us, what about how it makes us feel…the “process?”
Today is a rough day and people do not seem to really notice. I’m also not plastering it on my forehead. I called my husband but he is not available. Thought about calling a few “friends” that I would normally call when I am in a rut, but that is not possible. So here I am, focusing on an object, on a subject which momentarily is my therapy but honestly I wonder if anyone is even reading it…is anyone even out there.
Today, I feel like it is just me.
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