Ghosted ~ May 8, 2020
I don’t think the term “ghosted” is an accurate description for those unfortunate times when someone you love just cuts you off. Not for me anyway.
Family members – I’m certain I’ve wronged them. I accept this. I apologize for this. I own this. I’m equally certain they’ve wronged me. Yet, my apology and attempts at the most minimal of contact are ignored. And most of the time, I can accept that because I have hope that later down the line, maybe, just maybe we can forgive and get to know each other again.
A friend of 30 years, however… A friend who felt more like a sister than anyone else. The person I thought knew me more intimately than any other person on Earth… That friend who decided to ghost me and cease all communication with no explanation over a year ago, the loss of that relationship haunts me the most. The thing about loved ones suddenly no longer talking to you, no longer wondering about your days… your life, no longer caring about you, is heartbreaking and tragic.
(photo credit: bing images)
It’s tragic in the way that death is tragic. You don’t know the last time you’re seeing that person that it will, in fact, be the last. You don’t know to count the blessings of every moment of that last time spent together. You cannot go back and say things you wish you could have said… would have said. You can’t go back and do everything just right so that you don’t question yourself a thousand times in the future… Did I say this correctly? Did I not respond in the way I should have? Did I mishear something? Did I accidentally ignore something that should have been addressed? What did I do wrong? What did I miss? If only I could go back.
So no, for me the term “ghosted” is not correct. I miss my friend. I question and blame myself, even if I don’t necessarily deserve it. It’s haunting.
I am not ghosted. I am haunted.
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12.12.18 blog entry
Three Things I Don’t Like About Bipolar
1. Losing my memory.
2. Wait… what was I saying? 😶
3. Sorry, what now?
Again, I am left alone. Again!
My son just up and decides he wants a haircut and my husband just up and decides to take him. We were in the middle of watching a mystery show together. I was feeling a little better than I have been in the last few days and few weeks. I was not having any suicidal ideation and my muscles in my back and neck were feeling a little better.
And then they just decide and go. They don’t ask how I feel about it, if it’s okay, if I’m doing all right…..
I just want to go home. I have that feeling of wanting to go home. And as I’ve discussed before in this blog, feeling like I want to go home has been going on ever since I was first diagnosed with Bipolar and my psychotic breakdown in 2004.
I don’t know where that place is, the home for which I ache, because it certainly wasn’t a physical house I grew up in. I just want to go home. And I’m sad and tired and extremely angry now because I’m just ignored and disregarded.
Basically, I’m experiencing a Mixed Episode of Bipolar, and though I can hear myself and read these words that sound nonsensical, I still feel furious and hurt.
Please, families take care of each other and love each other. Please friends extend a hand and let your friends know you’re with them and you’ll do what you can, even if it’s just listening.
Listening is a huge thing and loving gesture.
Yo! I’ve been gone several days on a mini-vacation visiting friends and family. It has been simply wonderful. I enjoyed seeing friends and families. I *needed* to see these people. A friend of 25 years, give or take, and I’ve not seen her since her four-year-old was a baby. As she said on her FB post, we picked up right where we left off, and I knew we would.
Anyway, all in all, saw two very good friends, and had a nice get-together with my husband’s side of the family. In the past, there have been some misunderstandings there, but we seem to be moving in a forward, positive direction. I like the boundaries in place.
So, in this past week – a haircut, a movie about sharks (47 Meters Down – who voluntarily goes into a cage in deep waters to see sharks??!!) lunch with bestie, watched Food Network and laughed, and received cookbook in mail.
Bottom line. Recharged. Encouraged. Motivated.
All because I just plain had fun and decompressed. I even had some time alone, just me. How awesome and rare is that these days?
How this relates to a Bipolar blog? Emotional well-being relates to everything, but in dealing with a disorder that messes with moods, this is vital, and I had forgotten that.
Ah, and the Morning Glories have shot up! Groovy.