I've never really considered myself a good friend. I mean, I'm not consistent. I don't hang in there for the long haul. I don't keep in touch well, and I don't show up for the little stuff. I'm just not that old faithful friend that you think about immediately when someone brings up the issue of friendship.

But I do come through in a crisis, if that's any consolation.

Iran used to say that she would make shit up so that I would come to her rescue all the time. That if something traumatic wasn't happening to her, I wouldn't be there for her, so she'd think up something dramatic for me to solve, and for which to comfort her. She said I got this weird virgin Mary look to me when someone needed help, and I was the best comforter around.

I never wanted to believe this, but I have to be honest and think that it's true. Not that I get a virgin Mary look, but that I'm not around for the important stuff...just for the craziness. I'd like to think I've gotten better as the years have passed, and that I'm a little more consistent and a little less drawn to the drama. And I think I've done a fair job at that thus far.

But it seems that I'm still the go-to girl for the crises. For whatever reason, people sense that I'm the one to whom to turn, and turn to me they do. Having a moment in the dark night when the boogeyman is at your door? Call twids. Broke up with your abusive boyfriend and now he's breaking down your door with his bare fists? Call twids. Neighborhood kid hangs himself and his friends are all on the edge? Call twids. Husband tells you to get the fuck out of his parents' house in the middle of nowhereseville Ohio on Christmas day? Call twids. Girlfriend attempted suicide in a bi-polar attempt to regain control over you and your emotions? Call twids. Mother called you up in the middle of the night in a mid-psychosis tirade that reduced you to mental shreds?...you get the idea.

I don't mind being the go-to girl, really. It's flattering that people feel they can come to me. I like that they think of me when they're in a bad way and know that I'll be there for them. I like that they trust me and know that I'm not going to air their dirty little secrets ever to anyone. I like that I can be of comfort to anyone ever. That I'm usefull, I guess.

[Pause a beat for the arrival of the inevitable "but..."]

I guess my issue with being that person throughout the years, the only part of it that rubs me the wrong way, is that though I'm consistently there for various crises, rarely is there anyone around when I'm having a breakdown moment of my own.

Last night I got a call that falls into the go-to girl category, and I felt vaguely hostile as I sat on the phone with a friend who sat 3000 miles away, in an emergency room, needing a friend. I could see myself getting annoyed and being anything but comforting at certain points, and I struggled to figure out on the fly why I was reacting that way. I know I tend towards the hostile at women who attempt suicide in a half-assed manner in a painfully obvious reach for attention and control over an uncontrollable life. But usually I'm far more consolling, regardless of the girl downing charcoal behind the next curtain. Thinking of the pain that she must be feeling to think she needs to go to such lengths to get that control, and of the fear in the friend's heart who winds up in the waiting room, scared shitless that he's done the wrong thing.

I have to think it was the timing of the thing, and the similarity of situation to Jay's girlfriend who, last time she did this, really fucking pissed me off. Because I thought of Jay immediately and even mentioned him to last night's friend. She does not like me because she knows I see through her bullshit and because Jay gains strength when he hangs out with me. She forbids Jay to talk to me when she is around. And she's always around. And that pisses me off for numerous reasons, the biggest of which is that I don't get to spend time with one of my better friends because his girlfriend is a bipolar mess from hell. I don't get to hear from him until she's locked herself in some fucking room to play slash and burn with her wrists and he's debating whether to call 9-1-1 again. Jay just wrote me last week to tell me he's thinking about asking her to marry him, and the letter's been on my mind ever since. With Jay married to her, I'll never get to hang out with him again. And with Adam getting married in Mexico next month, I'll never again see him without his wife.

What IS this all about? I guess it's me being pissed off that others are acting the way I've acted all my life: Foul-weather friend. I don't get to hear from the ones I really care about until their situation's gone to DEFCON 5. But worse is that when MY situation goes south, they aren't there to call back.

See, now I'm talking about Jay and Adam, though, not about the friend from last night. He's different. But perhaps the similarities in situations, coupled with the recent blue mood, just put me over the edge. Terrible to think that I was punishing him for those who tread on my heart before him. And really, it has more to do with my shortcomings than anyone else's. Because they have what I don't have: trust that someone will be there. At least they reach out in those times and give a call. I, not trusting that anyone's going to be able to comfort me and that I will therefore end up lower than I was when I called, will not call anyone in those times of need. I become, as Davey loves to tell me so often, the New Atlas In Hiding.

What the fuck is WRONG with me? When was it that I got hurt so fucking badly that I decided I'd never trust another living soul with my thoughts? When did I decide that it was okay to give but never okay to take?

And why, oh why, is it that whenever I do take a teensy little step towards emotional intimacy with anyone, I feel like I veer off into some parallel universe? I'm to the point where I just want to go have sex with someone whose name I don't know and who never says anything, period. That way, I can make up all the details about him/her and never be disappointed with the real person. Because I've yet to find the person who both is able to hear and be with me during those tough times and who is willing to do so.

There's the rub, I suppose. There ARE people out there who can comfort me and who might know what I'm talking about when I hit emotional rock bottom. But those are the same people who aren't interested in being there. I guess I've known that for a long time but continue to hope against hope that I'll eventually find that person. It's when I lose the hope that I get emotional tidal waves like I had last week.

Meanwhile, I was a shitty comforter last night to a friend who needed it, and I feel terrible about it. Normally it's second nature to me to put my own emotional shit aside in those situations, and last night I just couldn't do it. Instead I struggled over words and fought to remind myself that this was not about me. And I'm ashamed of myself for being mediocre at one of the few things I'm supposed to do well. And for letting him down.

More, though, really, I'm ashamed of myself for not having called someone last week when I was crying for no reason and wondering whether to leave a note. More than that, I'm ashamed of the possiblity that the reason I don't feel like I have someone like that who I can turn to is because of something I might be able to change if I only knew what it was and how to change it.

What the fuck is my damage?

Posted by twids at 9:14 am