R.I.P.

Friendship

Born: Fall 1991

Death: 11/7/2016

Cause of Death:

Friend ingested a toxic mixture of drug addition that was sprinkled liberally with narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies

Yesterday, I mourn the death of a friend. You might ask me how did my friend die? Oh, he’s still walking around, breathing, and being a general pain in the ass to all that know him. After being on life support for months, the friendship finally gave up the ghost. For the purpose of this article, I will call him Justin.

Over 25 years ago, I met a friend named Justin in band camp. I know sounds like a line from the movie American Pie, “I remember this one time in band camp…”  It was my junior year and our band director allowed eight graders to play in marching band. I was the co-captain for the colorguard. I met this quiet, sullen boy who looked like he needed a friend to help him smile more.

Unless you really knew me, I was a basically shy student. I had a difficult childhood with a verbally, emotionally and sometimes physically abusive father that had left long-lasting scars that affect me even until this day. These facts were things you didn’t talk about. Even after my parents separated in my fourth grade year, you didn’t share this crap. This experience taught me to be less trusting and more observant.

However, once I opened up to you, you laughed at the folks that said I was a quiet, nice kid. I liked to make my friends laugh and they often didn’t know what would come out of mouth next. I was also a fierce friend and protector of those that I cared about. So Justin became one of my tribe.

The summer of my senior year, I was his first kiss. Nothing came from it. Well, except that he became one of my best male friends. He had some anger issues even back then that with my past triggered a possible red flag, but he never directed it towards me. When I needed it, he could make me laugh and give some of the best hugs, forever friend type thing. We had long meaningless phone calls that I have always treasured.

When I was finally able to move off to college (a year after everyone else), Justin was there to help me look at apartments. I didn’t know that he had started down the road to drug addiction at this time. He was keeping things well hidden. I didn’t know he had lost his father. He quit talking about important things that friends should talk about.

After I moved off, time and distance caused us to lose contact. He was still in high school and appeared happy with his new girlfriend. Unfortunately he was also self-medicating to cope with everyday life.

In 2004, I ran into him on one of my last visits to my hometown for many years. I spoke with him for about 10 minutes gave him a hug. I didn’t know that he had already had issues with the law at this point and was a full blown addict. I was just delighted to see my long lost friend and brother of my heart. Unfortunately, time passed again.

Around early 2015, we started talking again. We found each other on Facebook. When we spoke, it was almost like no time had passed. At the time, he was in recovery and on house arrest. We shared some stories and some laughter. I felt I was strong enough that I could be there for him. Yeah, I know… typical co-dependent behavior.

I ignored folks that said to not waste my time with him. I mean this was my friend, my Justin. My husband didn’t want me speaking with an ex-convict who was also an addict. However, I couldn’t bring myself to bale on my friend that was a bit cracked but not broken. He was a part of my family, my tribe.

Justin had led a difficult life. Many of his poor choices had led him to a life of crime to help meet his next fix. I ignored this too. I figured that but by the grace of God go I. Any of us could go down that road. A different path, a different choice, or a different coping mechanism and I think anyone could find themselves down this dark path. Over time, I saw but ignored important red flags.

Around April/May 2016, his personality and tone of his messages changed toward me. I found myself apologizing for things that weren’t necessarily my fault or to just try to keep the peace.

May was a difficult month for me. Long story short, another Mother’s Day had passed and I was not a mother. Because the depression had hit me hard, I needed my friends to be there for me. I was drowning in depression.

Justin was missing in action most of the time. Initially, I wrote it off to his new found freedom of having his ankle monitor removed. However, when he did message me, his responses were a little too critical. They were peppered with aggravation that I dare question his attitude.

His memes were always either dark, highly sarcastic, or sometimes funny. I ignored the memes that he posted or liked about how he was an asshole or how people didn’t know him. I mean, I knew him, right? Au contraire, mon frère. I should have listened. He was the asshole that he warned me about.

My internal alarm, my gut, was going off though. Alarms, bells, sirens, whistles, etc. Something was up. I had a feeling he might start using again. I didn’t know that he already was. I found myself trying to touch base just to make sure he was alright.

The same person who was not there for me when I was going through my low point, Justin was pushing me away. I was hurt because I was going through issues. One of them was a long term issue, my weight. My weight was another factor in my depression. I was 20 pounds from my heaviest and also at my unhappiest. But I ignored my own pain; I wanted to be a good friend.

In June, he hurt me. Not physically, but his words. Our friendship was on life support and the monitor was indicating that it was starting to crash. I was accused of being borderline nuts among other things. That I write/ramble too much. That he didn’t like reading that much anyway and my constant badgering was apparently getting on his nerves. One I was worried. Two, I’m a writer. Hello?!? That’s kind of what I do. Three, I may be naïve but I’m not stupid. There was an obvious change in his behavior.

I apologized and I took a step back. Then hello, wouldn’t you know it and he’s back in jail for using. He was slightly angry at his then girlfriend and now ex, for making him turn himself in. Again, He did not want to accept the consequences for his own actions. Everything is everyone else’s fault.

The extremely sad thing about this is that he had been clean for two years. He was just a couple of years from being totally free. But to him, he expected immediate satisfaction. Yes, he was a thief that got caught. However, he didn’t think he needed to pay the full time for his actions. Yes, he used, but he didn’t think that should come with repercussions.

Justin ended up in work release and we started speaking again. I was hurt but he blamed his recent behavior and attitude on being high. He was nicer to me, but it wasn’t quite the same as it was prior to his lapse. Naïve me, though, ignored the changes.

In August, his patience was wearing thin. The life support was skipping beats but still trying to hold on. He was about a month away from going back to work. A month! I get a message that he’s decided to run from work release. WTF!?!

I pleaded with to an unresponsive account to turn himself in. It’s temporary. You just got to get through this rough patch, this short time and you’ll be free for real.

I had dreams of him turning up dead from an overdose. The sad part that I might not ever know what happened to the sweet, highly sarcastic boy that I cared about. I started watching the arrest records and obituaries.

Two days later, his arrest showed up online. Again, denial is a heartless bitch. I decided to write him and provide whatever support I could to him. I still figured enough people had baled on him. I wrote him. I would apologize for writing so much but I figured he needed to have something to look forward to. I figured getting mail from a caring friend might make a bad situation just the tiniest bit not so dark.

Justin wrote back. He was nicer to me than he had been in months. I figured it was the lack of drugs in his system because that was excuse he had given before. I encouraged. I rambled because he was okay with me talking but didn’t share much on his side. I just figured it was the situation. It was still nice to hear from him. I looked forward to emailing him/writing him and getting some periodic response back.

A couple of weeks ago, he was released to house arrest. A bitter man was released from jail. Friendliness was again peppered with criticisms. I found myself not being completely myself. I was apologizing often to avoid his ire. I was being criticized for the personality I have always had. I’ve not changed that much but now, how I am, is wrong.

Anger at the world was most prevalent. Hate toward his ex and his situation. He didn’t want to talk to me about it and was quick to snap at me if I persisted.

Heart monitor fluttering….

Last week, I got bronchitis. I was still trying to work but it was kicking my butt. Normally a friend would care to check on you regularly when you’re really sick….crickets.

In brief time that he was out, he was always in a hurry to get off talking with me when we did chat. I mean you’re on house arrest. You got a lot of places to go?

I felt like an inconvenience. I mean did you not tell me that I was one of the few friends that actually made the effort to be there for you in jail?

And I felt a little of his angry at disturbing him. I was happy that he was out again for about 5 minutes. When the jail personality is nicer than the free personality, Houston we have a problem. I felt used.

Let me take a step back here to say this. I am no way near perfect in my history of friendships. I have a tendency to push people away when they hurt me, lie to me, use me, etc. However, over the years, as I watched friends die too young from illness or accidents, my methodology has changed slightly. I’ve had remorse on how I handled certain hurts. I’ve mourned a few and have regrets of my own on how I handled it when someone hurt me.

When wrong, I admit it and try to rectify the situation. I give those multiple chances to those who hurt me. I don’t bale when times get tough. I try to listen and be a shoulder to lean on if needed. I expect honesty, don’t use me, and to simply be there if I need someone in return to talk to (so maybe in this instance the word is time).

Sunday night, my Facebook book page, showed I lost a like. I have gotten into the habit of checking my friends to make sure they are still there to make sure that I haven’t offended them with something I posted. If I did, I try to apologize. I’m a Christian but I’m also a romance writer. Sometimes I post things that are a little on the naughtier side. Some of my more religious friends have un-liked my page in the past. The habit of checking my friends that follow my page began.

Justin had dropped off. I looked through my memes and couldn’t figure out what I posted that he took issue with. I mean you can unfollow without un-liking so there had to be a reason. I found myself apologizing yet again and asking what I had done. Granted, probably not the best timing with him starting back to work on Monday. However, if I had done something, I wanted to know to see if I could correct it. Again, I’m the one apologizing.

Apparently, this was so not the thing to do. I was un-friended and got a message. I didn’t open the message because the first line started out with the same hateful spill that I’d been dealing with since he first started using again. I didn’t feel it necessary to read whatever critical, bitchy thing he had to say to me. I was tired but I was waking up.

I texted him. I figured the friendship was done anyway. He had said enough with his actions. I told him the things that I had bottled up before. The hurt, my anger, how he had broken the piece of my heart that I had always saved for my friend. And yes, I was in full bitch mode because now I was angry.

I congratulated him for pushing away someone that really cared about him and would never have done so with him. I finally agreed that he changed. That the boy I knew was gone. Because he was gone. The glimmer of the sweet boy that would have never in a million years hurt me was gone. He died probably over a decade ago. Any shimmer that I saw of him in this bitter man that he became was an illusion.

Needless to say, two angry texts that I didn’t read until much later and the heart monitors were silenced. No amount of beating on his chest or resuscitation could save the friendship. He blocked me and accused me of doing a guilt trip. Whatever, if you feel guilty, I don’t know maybe you have something to feel guilty about.

I was hurt and angry. Words demanded to be released to help alleviate this pounding of emotions in my chest. The pain of loss, of my naivety, disappointment consumed me. I started writing this journal entry so that I could get it out and release the overwhelming hurt I felt.

I began searching terms like sociopath and narcissist. And I thought, well damn when did that happen to him? He wasn’t always this way.

The answers were not obvious. Was it the drug use? Did his hard life mold him into the asshat he is now? I don’t know.

All I know is the following:

1. He feels no remorse
2. He might appear to be empathetic but it’s only an illusion. He uses it to meet his needs.
3. He will never admit or recognize he’s in the wrong or the asshat.
4. Sociopaths and Narcissists. Everyone else is wrong or done him wrong. He will never accept the accountability for his actions
5. Narcissists. Given the opportunity, he will use the technique of gas-lighting. Look it up. The term is an emotionally abusive one that is a way to deflect from the individual’s actions to make it appear that they are the victim. Extremely interesting concept. They enjoy calling others crazy when they respond negatively to their behavior. Justin has already used it on me a few times.
6. Sociopaths will lie to meet their needs and cover their actions
7. Sociopaths can be charming or make you feel special but again this only to help the meet their needs (conartist/player with an agenda)
8. Sociopaths and Narcissists can be cold to you or seem distant. May also have indications of a lack of compassion.
9. Sociopaths lack of true friends. They have people that are yes men or people they are using. They have no patience for true connections.
10. Sociopaths can be immature. This is evident in their selfishness and inability to sustain their responsibilities.
11. A narcissist will never be there for you. They don’t care enough about anyone to do that.
12. Narcissists will use your insecurities against you
13. It’s not my fault that the friendship died. It needed to a lot sooner.
14. I don’t have to change my personality to avoid the ire of a fake friend
15. Don’t apologize for being yourself but do apologize when you hurt someone
16. You’re not a bad person for standing up against bad behavior. I have the right to say enough.
17. Don’t beat yourself up for trying and failing
18. I can’t fix anyone. I can only work on me. I have no control in how my help is received.
19. If he came to me tomorrow and was genuinely remorseful for his actions, I would forgive him but the friendship would never be the same.
20. He’ll never find another friend like me. He may never feel remorse for the loss of my friendship. However, one day he might need me and I won’t be there.

 

In closing, I may have lost a friendship yesterday but I gained a better perspective of myself. I’m going to use the experience for growth and reflection. I’m going to grieve it like I would any other death and then I will carry on. So I guess this message is a eulogy of sorts to the friendship I had with Justin.

I don’t wish him pain. I want him to find happiness one day. I want him to live a long, drug-free life. I want him to experience joy again. I don’t hate him. I feel sorry for him.