Losing Friends as an Adult Sucks
Admittedly it sounds a bit stupid in retrospect, but I didn’t expect ghosting to be an issue with friendships at my ancient age of 27. Yet here we are. I’m not talking some casual short term friendship either, I’m talking five full years. This is not meant to be any sort of angry or hateful blog post might I add. I have no wish to ever invalidate anybody’s feelings or experiences, but this feels like it’ll be therapeutic and constructive. Will the person who this is about see this? Maybe. I would say unlikely given the fact they haven’t spoken to me in about a year but hey who knows. Maybe. If you do - Hello, I don’t hate you.
Given my life experiences with grief and loss, I am not one to cling. I am more than accepting of the fact that any relationship of any kind has its time, place, season, etc. Things end. That’s okay. People change and discover things about themselves that alter their needs and wants. Sometimes nobody is even “at fault” at all. Life is just. Life. So why did this specific experience hurt so bad? The reality that somebody I considered a close friend didn’t really know or understand me at all sucks. It’s not really ideal to point fingers in a situation like this I’ve found. It’s very likely we aren’t pointing at the same thing or even pointing with the same finger.
I’ve had an issue my whole life with being chronically misunderstood. People put motivation and thought behind my actions and words that wouldn’t even cross my mind unless told to my face directly. Yes I am probably on the spectrum. I say probably because I don’t want to end up in an RFK Jr sanctioned neurodivergent work camp. I am joking but I am also not joking. I don’t have any sort of official ADHD/AuDHD diagnosis anyway because I am “too social”. You’d think this exact situational pattern would be some sort of diagnostic marker, but hey. I’m not a doctor. Neither is RFK Jr. Anyway.
I imagine you’re wondering what I did. Rightfully so. I wondered this myself for about a year. Boy do I wish I had a direct answer. All I have managed to ‘uncover’ (to speak unreasonably cryptically about this for both your entertainment and mine) is that they thought I talked about myself too much. This is not the first time I have heard this. I say that and we assume “Wow. So you know this is a problem and you don’t work on it?”. False. I know right. I sadly worked on it extensively in therapy. I’ve worked on it to the point where when I catch myself rambling too long I cut myself off and redirect the conversation. I try and make up for my talkative and rambling nature by listening well and remembering the little things. I try to show up for my friends in whatever way I can physically and mentally. I am a person who thinks friendship supersedes romantic relationships often times, and even my romantic partners are my friend above all else. Naturally, when people claim I am a bad friend despite my genuine efforts it’s not going to feel good.
I’ve come to accept that I can make all the effort in the world and it physically would not be possible for everybody to like me. I am who I am. I have learned to let go of the people who expect me to put on a persona to earn their acceptance and understanding. I have managed to find deep true friendships by being myself, and I don’t intend to change that for the approval of others. I can tell people all day that I’m more than willing to have a potentially uncomfortable conversation to better our friendship, but I cannot make them talk to me. I cannot force vulnerability or communication. Intention and Perception both matter, but if the perception is so off base from the intention there’s only so much I can do. I sent a text that just said “I miss youuuuu” and got no response. Not only that. I even unashamedly sent one more text two weeks later before accepting the lack of response for what it was and letting it go. If that’s not a big fuck you to my long-gone rejection sensitivity I don’t know what is.
All of this to say. I count myself very lucky that in spite of instances like this I don’t think of the world as a horrible place where I will never feel understood. I feel understood by friends, by film, by music, by art. I understand myself and that’s fucking huge. There is no shame in making a majority of mistakes as long as you learn something; either about yourself or the world. I still wish nothing but the best for this person and am always rooting for their happiness and success. I still have many fond memories with this friend that I’m thankful to have experienced, even if the friendship ended abruptly. Many great things in life end abruptly when you really think about it. Freaks & Geeks, Four Lokos, Tim Robinson’s time as an SNL featured player, Sharona’s time as a Monk caretaker, America’s Democracy.
I am 23 and I have Thyroid Cancer.
Genuinely I have no alternative title idea for this blog post. I take in far less carcinogens than most people my age, being somebody who has never smoked any nicotine in my life as well as a vegan for four years, yet I still ended up with cancer. It seems the terminally ill mother and worldwide lockdown were not enough, we needed the cancer storyline and we needed it stat. I cannot get the “read more” off the post but i assure you…this is the entire post.
Texan sees first REAL Cactus! You’ll never believe what happens next! *
As somebody who gets anxiety from driving I never imagined I would drive 1,800 miles by myself. However, I did just that last week. I had more fun driving 13 hours one way and 13 hours back than I have had sitting in my apartment for the past 4 months. The two full days I spent in Tucson with my friend Jordan were a perfect end to my summer and I couldn’t have asked for a better outlet for all this pent up curiosity from self-isolation.
As somebody who gets anxiety from driving I never imagined I would drive 1,800 miles by myself. However, I did just that last week. I had more fun driving 13 hours one way and 13 hours back than I have had sitting in my apartment for the past 4 months. The two full days I spent in Tucson with my friend Jordan were a perfect end to my summer and I couldn’t have asked for a better outlet for all this pent up curiosity from self-isolation.
*This title is clickbait. I hope that is okay.
Mountain [Wo]men
Jordan and Myself at one of the photo spots along the Mount Lemmon Scenic Byway.I have been living as a clinically anxious human for as long as I can remember. The thing that always gave me the most anxiety in high school was the idea of driving a car and getting my license. I waited until I was 17 to start the process out of genuine fear. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I could drive a car, I just didn’t trust others to be driving cars. As somebody who overthinks every possibility to a fault it wasn’t something I could easily let go of. Thankfully, i’ve worked very hard over the last few years on keeping my anxiety in check. I now know how to push passed my irrational, fears and experience the things I want to experience. I’ve come to realize that I enjoy adventures and I am not somebody who can be happy in complacency. If I want to do something I need to do it even if that means doing it alone. How I ended being both anxious and in desperate need of constant variety and adventure, I will never understand.
I grew up in a family that did not take part in a lot of nature activities. We went to the lake and swam plenty, but we never went outright camping or hiking. I was always a very curious child and I have now grown into a very curious adult. I am grateful that even though I am an overthinker, I am a curious one. The right amount of questions can get you places. That being said, I now because of this have a killer urge to go both camping and hiking. Since it was an Arizona summer I figured that would not make for a good first camping or hiking experience. We opted to take a long drive up into the mountains via the Mt. Lemmon Scenic Byway. There was one minivan I remember us driving behind that had all four of the windows rolled down. At one point there were four various hands of different sizes reaching out the windows to feel the mountain air and it got me really choked up. I now had yet another experience to experience. It feels so much better to be excited about where you’re going, than to be dwelling on where you could or should have already been.
I hadn’t shot any sort of portraits in a while so I graciously asked Jordan if she would be my subject and she did just as wonderfully as I had expected. She also was sweet enough to take some photos of me, seeing as I haven’t had any taken of me in a spell either. Reid Park.
My taking a killer selfie at a Love’s Travel Stop in the middle of nowhere Texas with a 12oz cup filled with gas station grapes (grapes not pictured).I decided to plan and take this trip in less than two weeks time, and it went smoothly and was such a rewarding and memorable experience. I broadened my horizons and have given myself the confidence to go do things alone even if it’s nerve wracking or anxiety inducing at times. I’m a independent and capable person. I know myself better than anybody else, and I’m so glad I didn’t let some of the overly paranoid comments some people made towards me about this idea stop me from doing it. I didn’t let other’s fears or insecurities keep me from doing something I knew I was more than capable of. Everybody has boundaries and I shouldn’t take other’s boundaries on as my own.
On a serious note - I thought about the reasons behind wanting to take this trip a lot over the duration of the drive. One of the major factors that went into me wanting to make this drive alone, is that my mother is very sick. She is terminally ill. I lost my father when I was a freshman in high school, and I have no siblings. Knowing myself, and my fears, I wanted to push myself to really do something on my own. While it may be true that the human condition is loneliness, it is a daunting thought to consider the weight of truly not having any safety net. My future is going to be very different from my past and present. I will have to adapt and be completely self reliant in all the ways a person can be at 23. This trip, for me, proved that I am going to be okay. Life can throw whatever mess it wants at me, and I can still push myself to accomplish goals and to better myself and my life experience. I am strong.
Soon things will change for me in a way I still cannot imagine, but life will go on and I will still feel joy and excitement regardless of any grief or sadness that may accompany it.
Do I have poor impulse control? No, I overthink too much for that.
Over the course of this lockdown I’ve had a lot of time to really think. Most of that time has been spent thinking about what could have been, where I want to be, and how I should go about getting to where I want to be. I’m finally finished thinking and ready to start doing. Whatever the hell that means.
Over the course of lockdown I’ve had a lot of time to really think. Most of that time has been spent thinking about what could have been, where I want to be, and how I should go about getting to where I want to be. I’m finally finished thinking and ready to start doing. Whatever the hell that means.
My brain waves being checked via EEG after my anxiety induced seizure episodes that caused me to take some time off of school starting in 2017The sudden nature of this quarantine caught me off guard. I was working a full time job, put school on hold indefinitely to be able to work enough to fully support myself, and was so bogged down with my daily schedule I didn’t even have time to think about my passions or goals. I was stuck in a never ending cycle of essentially waking up, going into work, getting home from work, taking a nap, getting up, figuring out dinner, and then binge watching TV shows I had already seen a dozen times instead of watching some of the new content I had on my plethora of streaming service lists. The one thing I did do on a somewhat weekly basis was go to the movies. Sometimes that meant a newly released film, and sometimes that meant a curated programmed film. This was the one thing I never lost. Sure I had periods where I wouldn’t go to the theater for a good 3 weeks, but there were some streaks I had where I went weekly+ for months.
Film has been my passion for as long as I can remember. It was what I had been going to school for before my anxiety seizures, and the only thing I could ever imagine going to school for. I wanted to write. I wanted to direct. It took me being stuck in my apartment for a month to realize how depressed I had become over the last two years. I had been slowly losing parts of myself over the past handful of years. I had become so far removed from the thing I loved. This was something I feel like I had always known on some level, but sitting with it alone in my apartment? That was a feeling all its own.
While this quarantine has been a wake-up call for me, I did have one more wake-up call a few months before it started. I flew out to LA to meet up with some online friends for a podcast live show (i know). The whole weekend filled me with a feeling of excitement and motivation I hadn’t felt in years. I had never been out to LA, only the Bay Area. I’d always considered myself an east coast lover, but the second my friends and I drove out to Malibu and took the costal highway back into the city I realized how wrong I had been. The more time I spent with these likeminded friends, the more I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. When we saw the live show I felt inspired beyond what I had been in my recent memory. When we met the hosts at the Patreon meet up after the show, I decided in that moment I was going back to school. I was going to build up my confidence and make an effort to get out of food service. I felt like I reconnected with parts of myself on that trip. The second I walked in the door of my apartment at 2am after a delayed flight home I reenrolled and signed up for classes.
