It's been a while. But last night, I experienced a rather extreme emotional response. (Well, extreme by reference to my own scale of emotional responses, which is based on a perception of myself as a relatively composed person.) So I figured that warrants some reflection.
I end a call with Matt in a sombre mood. He told me about a conversation he had with Alan, about Alan's concern that our friendship group is falling apart, and (the most hurtful part) that "his tolerance level for explaining things to Erica that normal people would understand" has decreased since he started full-time work.
I feel myself instantly becoming defensive and thinking, well if he doesn't feel like I'm adding value or doesn't enjoy spending time with me, then fine I'm not one to stay where I'm not wanted. Fine, I'm a little naive. Fine, I'm stubborn when it comes to defending people when it may not be justified or reasonable because I think it's good to always see the best in people. Fine, I'm curious when people have different perspectives to mine and ask a lot of questions to understand them. And maybe all of this is annoying. But aren't friends supposed to
The logical voice in my mind suggests that I might be taking this all too personally. It's not a big deal. Alan tends to make flippant comments about people. It doesn't mean he doesn't care or is no longer a good friend. Friends complain about friends all. the. time.
But I had gone too far down to reverse this emotional train of thought. I start questioning whether any of my friends actually like me, whether I'm adding value to their lives or merely being tolerated, whether it's all pointless in the end... I guess the whole scenario of finding out about a close friend picking on things they don't like about me digs into one of my deepest insecurities. It might stem from the insecure 13 year old me that felt like I didn't belong in my high school group or from the good ol' Evelyn betrayal. Or maybe it's just my (slightly obsessive) need to be perfect and to be liked by everyone.
Matt's attempt to cheer me up with words of support and encouragement help a little, but I'm too trapped in negativity to think rationally.
I sit in the car brooding silently. At some point, Jon notices and asks, "Are you okay?". I crumple. Cue the ugly cry. The kind where your nose gets clogged up so you can't breathe, you squint through swollen and puffy goldfish-like eyes, and you struggle to string a sentence together to explain the cause of your distress.
Mum turns around and asks "What's wrong?... Is it because you miss Matt?"
Despite the rather depressing internal monologue I'm having in my brain, I burst into laughter. Jon and Tess are laughing hysterically with me. All three of us think it's absurd that I would cry to this extent just because I miss Matt. (I do miss him though)
Talking through my thoughts and feelings, I understand better why I'm so upset. In my eyes, my friends can do no wrong. Once they've passed some subconscious boundary in my mind and I consider them a close friend, they become cloaked in a shroud of positive bias. I find it difficult to criticise their actions or complain about them. So when I realise that they don't operate on the same basis, and criticise things about me that I feel like are inherently me, it hurts.
Regardless, being with family was comforting.
I guess this whole thing was another reminder that you can't please everyone. I also need to accept that friendships change and people disappoint. C'est la vie. But life continues and it's okay.
Me.
