Here we are again. This is going to be a really long post and I’ll be blathering and shit, just so whatever readers I might have are aware.
I’ve realized over time that I’ve been cycling for years and on the completely wrong medication. Rose and I are on the rocks because of my illness and her issues as well. Any time I talk to her now or she messages me I get highly anxious. I’m not comfortable talking to my what seems like former best friend. Over the course of these last five months, I’ve been incredibly ill. Even before the winter, I was still in a lower level crisis. I’ve been having this off and now but more on for years.
“The most common age when symptoms of psychosis first begin is 18-24 years old, but can vary depending on individual circumstances with the majority of cases first occurring between ages 13-30. Males tend to have earlier onset than females by an average of one or two years” – (https://www.earlypsychosis.ca/pages/curious/who-gets-psychosis).
What was interesting to me about this round of insanity was that I had a return of slight hallucinations along with delusions. I haven’t had serious symptoms of the hallucination type since I was in my early teens. The delusions, however, have stayed with me for most of these peaks and troughs.
Rose has unfortunately been dragged through my illness hurricanes for years as well. It’s not surprising to me that things are destructing. She brought up tough love and seeing a pattern. The pattern she is referring to is called “course of illness”. I don’t know about her, but I didn’t realize it actually was a course and is well documented among bipolar folk. Crisis, mini summer crisis, crisis, mini summer crisis. Amid all of this, I owe her money. Money. It always clouds things.
But I did tell her I would let her go if she decided she ever wanted to step away. I’m not surprised. I knew eventually my illness might get too serious for her to handle the heat in the kitchen. Hell, I can barely handle it. Our friendship became toxic after it was unhealthy for a number of years. It was too codependent from both sides of the street. She has a fuckton of issues that I think have led to her reaction. But the way I reacted to her reaction was sadness and pain.
Can we ever expect to have a healthy friendship if it hasn’t been healthy from the start? From the beginning, I believe I have been the toxic friend. Naturally, I was this way without intention because I had been so codependent with my mother. From only that experience my mind found nothing wrong with the relationship I had with Rose.
I also had more close friends at that time, one of them being Kat. That’s another relationship that I believe has been greatly strained by my illness and hers. Hell, all of my friends are pretty much mentally ill in one fashion or another. Hers just happens to be depression/anxiety instead of the frenetic anxiety and paranoia Rose has. Because of that, I think Kat might be more understanding of what’s going on within me right now and is stepping far back for her own health as well.
I’ve been leaning on my friend Maria quite a lot as I’m going through this period of strain. She’s been deeply suicidal before many times. She’s had a hard life like me. Maria also has willingly gone to the hospital more than once like me. Maria can handle the heat in the kitchen because she’s been sitting in that same one since the day we met.
Rose came close to actually sitting in that kitchen with me. I regret that things went that far. She stayed with me for longer than anyone has. She’s been pulled to places she should have never been. Do I blame myself for some of the issues she has now? Yes. Very much so. You cannot be my best friend and emerge from the other side without burns and scars. You can’t be normal. The funny thing is I was aware of the pattern a loooooong time ago, but I misguidedly thought that maaaaybe moving in with my best friend would break the pattern.
Goddamn, I was wrong. Really, incredibly, unequivocally, incorrect. It made things worse. For both of us. We fucking lost it. Her in the anxious/paranoid way and I in a suicidal/psychotic/manic/anxious/personality disordered/chronically unemployed way (Ok just listen to You Can (Maybe) Do It by Psychostick to get what I’m saying because I feel so called out by that song). Also, I started a relationship in the middle of the storm. Basically, things got fucked up and we moved in with my high school friend/ex-boyfriend.
My life is super weird, ok? Yes, it’s my own fault it’s weird. I’ve known this for a long time, but again in the heat of the moment I physically don’t have the capacity to understand that what I’m doing is strange in that moment, month, year many times. The issue is I’m going to keep having these crises until I get on the correct meds. I’ve had several big changes in meds over the last couple of months. I’m still not sure if I’m on the right medication. I don’t know how long it will work.
Unless I can approach Rose in a healthy way and she can approach me in the same way, I feel like we cannot be close friends. I don’t know how long that will take. Weeks, months, maybe years, maybe never. Never. A word that is so final. Just like goodbye. The gates close. Maybe that’s the best thing I could ever do. Who will we become as we drift apart? Maybe healthier so that we might drift back together? I surely hope so, but if not I’ll remember all the wonderful and beautiful things we did together.