Female Friend Drama Part III

Where were we?  Oh yes, we'd just come back from our big trip. It must have been May.  My mother went travelling in South America for two months and I was in charge of the house (my sister wasn't much help.) I went into a depression and cried randomly.  Things were stressful.

You see, Angie, a former co-worker, an art teacher I used to assist, had phoned me the previous December to tell me she had throat cancer.  She asked me to start substituting for some of her art classes at the rec centre, gradually I took them over.  I was also driving her to chemo, and visiting her often.  I got to know her and her family quite well.

Emily had wanted to go on our trip to get some perspective.  I think she decided she wanted the old boyfriend back.  They'd been together 8 years, both of them still lived at home.  They only saw each other about once a week.  It seemed to me to lack any kind of romance or spark.  She told me she wanted him to do a big gesture to win her back.  I had no sympathy- in one year she had considered relationships with three other men (the two from work and the one in London). 

Meanwhile we were back working on the film at the arts organization.  Both of us would bring our laptops, but only she would plug into the internet.  She would sign into online messaging and talk to people all day long.  I thought that was pretty rude.  Mostly she talked to her old work buddy Charlie, who was still devoted to her.  They played this game where they'd pick a word (like 'sunshine') and send each other songs with that word in the lyrics.  The music would play in the room so I could hear it too.  I kinda wanted to play, and sometimes I made suggestions, but I didn't really think it was very professional of either of them.  Charlie was at work, and we were pretending to be! 

Once he sent a song that featured the words 'stupid ho' over and over and I reached over and turned it off.  That was the end of that game, or at least my involvement in it.  Well, I still say you can't play a song like that in an office, especially when you're using the space for free.

After that, Emily wore headphones.  If I wanted to talk to her about the film, she acted like I was interrupting her most unreasonably.

I said I was crying quite a lot at that time.  Sometimes at work.  Emily had to comfort me.  We'd go for walks.  She was a reasonably good friend at those times, but what could she do when I told her I was lonely and worried about surviving as an artist and sometimes jealous of her social life and jobs?  It only made her feel bad about what she had, when she wasn't even happy with her life either.

What a mess.  What a mess.

There was this really special art show in town and even though we talked about going together, I decided to go with my sick friend Angie instead.  I couldn't believe Emily sulked about that.

Then the arts organization had a job opening, just a little short term gig, and they asked both of us to put in a portfolio.  We took a long walk to discuss that one.  I at that time felt that I needed the job to save my self confidence.  I wasn't going to ask Emily not to apply, but I must have secretly hoped she'd stand back and let me have a chance.  I was holding back what I felt.  She was getting really heated and blurted something about me thinking she wasn't a good enough artist to do it, which was hurtful, insulting....I didn't think that, and I didn't want to hold her back.  It's just that I really thought I needed it more than her, like I was drowning and clutching at anything that would pull me up...
In the end we both applied and neither of us got it.  Probably the best outcome, but the damage was done.
She withdrew more and more into the online messaging....I couldn't even talk to her.  In June I wrote her a letter, and at the end of the workday I tried to give it to her.  She wouldn't take it.  We went to the park and tried to talk, but I tried to tell her she was like a brick wall and I ended up sobbing hysterically, loud, gasping, unstoppable crying, in a public park.  She just sat next to me quietly.  At one point she said so quietly and sadly, "Why are you so sad?"  We were in the park a long time, we moved to a quieter place, I still couldn't stop, she started getting a little angry, and I gasped out 'I'm....so.....disappointed...." and she BLEW UP.   Yelled stuff at me and left me crying in the park.  I sat there and cried for a while then went home.  My mother came home that night.  I acted quite normal.  I casually told my sister Emily and I had had a fight. 
I tried to phone Emily but she hung up on me.
A few days later I got an email saying that I should go to counselling and that I should take time away to heal.  Emily had suggested counselling for me before, because she got scared when I cried. 
So I signed up right away, and started going once a week.  I didn't tell my family. 
I liked my counseller, even if she looked like the mom on Leave it to Beaver.  I think she had dentures, or just some really straight teeth.  My counseller made me say what it was I liked so much about Emily, and I couldn't think of much. 
I'm going to save everybody hundreds of dollars:  The best thing the counseller told me was "If this is the worst time of your life, and you live through it, it will be over and nothing will ever be as bad again."
For the first few weeks I just lay on the couch a lot.  Eventually the counseller helped me make a list of goals and I started drawing again.  I got a part time job at a thrift store, which changed my view on the world in many ways, but that's another story. 
Emily and I still emailed a bit, for some reason.  My counseller told me to give her space, so I never wrote unless she did, and never asked to see her.
In October there was an art school reunion and I wrote to Emily and told her I was going.  She said she was too.  I think she said she was proud of me. (?)  At the event I saw her (with Charlie) and she hugged me.  I told her a bit about the guy at work who liked me.  We met a few times after that, and hung out for short periods of times, trying to be friends again, although she kept her distance a little more than I did.  An old teacher died and we went to the funeral together.  I ignored the fact that while I had been crying on the couch that summer, she had stayed at the arts organization and worked on her own project, one she must have had secretly ready to go.  I wonder what she told them about why I never came back.  I wonder what happened to the pair of shoes I left at the office.
The film , the project we worked on for five year, was never mentioned.  I think she did date Charlie for a little while but she didn't really go into details. I didnt actually see Emily all that much, but we wrote often and it was quite friendly.  I was busy with my new job and trying to work on my art, I took a few art classes, and I stopped going to counselling.

I was really happy to have Emily back in my life.  Part of that might of been that I was seeing all my old art school friends again.  The ones she'd been hanging out with all along.  The ones that never phoned me during my disappearance...

I stopped covering Angie's classes- it was too hard.  She took a turn for a worse in the spring. 
She died at the end of June.  I didn't even cry.  I only cried when I fought with Emily.  I haven't cried in years.  I wish I could.  I wish I could.

In August I decided to have a bbq, one I'd planned for Angie to attend in June....that might have been inappropriate but I wanted my friends around me.  It rained and not a lot of people came but we had a good time.  Immediately after I was helping prepare a slide show for Angie's memorial and two computers in the house broke down.   I had a nasty cough.  I sent Emily a little message on facebook:  "I"m sick, my computer's broken and the memorial's next week.  Stress!  Do you think people had a good time at my party?"  She wrote back :"I can't help but notice your messages have been getting more negative lately.  You friends love you and want you to be happy but you have to do something about this."

I took three days to reply to that, and I said 'Angie died six weeks ago.  I'm grieving.  It really wasn't all that negative.'

She wrote back a bunch of nonsense about  having to protect her own happiness and she wasn't going to be my dumping ground anymore.  It's burned into my memory forever:  "you can't deal with stuff and you don't solve problems."
That day I found out my grandmother had cancer.  I never answered Emily's message, and two weeks later she 'unfriended' me on facebook.   This was August.
I went back to counselling once soon after that.  My counseller wasn't too impressed with Emily.

I ran into her twice after that.  There was a minimum of interaction.  I think we said 'hi' politely.
In January I received a card from her.  I opened it at breakfast and cried into my cereal.  It was a gift card for art supplies and all it said was 'the desk is very useful.  I am grateful. -Emily'.  

I cried because I had given her the desk six months earlier.  It would have given me a little dignity if she'd taken the desk from me as a gift, from a friend, because I thought we were, at the time.  And, knowing her like I do, I felt she was freeing herself of all obligation to me.  She might not have known she was doing that, but she probably thought of me every time she sat at the desk, and thought she could square things up if she send me $35.   I wasn't going to make good art if my supplies came from her- I gave the card to a friend.

35 bucks for 8 years of friendship and an old desk.  But I got my revenge!  Emily borrowed a van to pick it up.  The night before she came I discovered my cat had peed on the top and I scrubbed and scrubbed it, but never told her.  Ha!

I still curse her name sometimes.  I don't talk to anybody from my old art world anymore- I'm starting over, on my own, out of the shadow of Emily.

PS.  My grandmother is now cancer free!

Female Friend Drama Part II

Announcing the arrival of new niece today! We went to see the baby at the hospital today- oh, family dynamics fun.  My grandmother is only 75, but her conversation is getting harder and harder to follow.  It's one long cheerful stream of half-finished unrelated anecdotes about everyone she knows....My mother was cranky, my sister's baby was fussy, the in-laws visiting from England didn't introduce themselves to us, my dad and his wife hung around the neighbourhood of the hospital ALL DAY but left after a short visit with the baby...the new mother looked very small and young and wouldn't let anybody hold the baby for the first hour and a half.  My brother looked happy and quiet and possibly overwhelmed. 

Fun moment for the still-single sibling:  "Next year is going to be so boring.  What can top two babies?" 

I'm not sure how well I'm doing right now.  I am happy that the baby arrived safely, and of course I will love it like a good auntie.  Seeing the new parents, it just felt like intruding on a such a private moment, such a huge life changing moment, and one I don't think I'm ever going to have.

Also I've gotten zero messages on OKCupid.  What am I doing wrong? 

Anyways, I'd better continue with my story about Emily.  Sorry to whoever is reading this, I don't think it's interesting to anyone but me.

For two years Emily and I worked on that film part-time, each of us taking jobs as opportunities arose, and then they started to arise more for her.  During this time, my parents separate, hire lawyers and fight over money, I don't speak to my father for a year, my mother sells the house we've lived in for 17 years and we move 17 years worth of crap into a new house.

One day near the end of these two years, the day after Halloween, Emily wasn't at 'work', that is to say she wasn't at the space where we met to work on the film.  The receptionist of the arts organization told me that Emily's boyfriend had phoned in to say Emily had spent the night in the hospital.  I phoned her parents and left a message, and got no answer.  I didn't have a phone number or email for the boyfriend, even though they'd been going out as long as I'd known her. 

I was super panicked and started to cry.  I kept phoning her parents and finally spoke her to dad.  She was still in the hospital.  She'd fallen and hit her head on the sidewalk while 'running from the police'?  Her dad has a thick accent so I can't say for sure that's what he said, but that's what I heard.  I went to see her in the hospital, and when I went into the room she was asleep and had a big purple bruise.  I forgave her everything at that moment; I was so relieved she was okay.  We visited and she was a bit evasive about what happened, she just said she was 'running, just running.'  I never asked her what really happened that day and she never volunteered the story.  She stayed at home to recover for the next few weeks and  I went to visit her.  She seemed grateful for that.  She said she felt very different, like her personality had changed.  I can't remember what exactly was said but I remember that time as being very surreal.

Weeks later I had a niggling feeling that it was weird that the boyfriend had called the arts organization, who really didn't care whether we were there or not, and not me.  It must have been at her instruction, no? I mention this little incident because it seems like the beginning of the end...

I can't remember what happened the following winter and spring, but it must have been when she started to get some really good jobs and had no time for the project.  That summer I hardly saw her at all.  She had a job at the best place in town, and I was so jealous.  Our mutual friend had moved to Seattle to live with her boyfriend (met online!) and Emily and I took a bus trip together.  We did a lot of catching up and had really great conversations.  She told me this guy who sat next to her at work, Adam, was flirting heavily with her and she really liked him.  She still was dating her long-time boyfriend, and Adam had a girlfriend that he lived with.  I actually encouraged her to go for it, since I didn't like her boyfriend all that much.  After a few months of hearing about all the flirting, in the end Adam wouldn't leave his girlfriend and Emily was heartbroken. 

But.  There was another guy who sat on the other side of her at work, and he seemed to have a bit of a crush on her.  Charlie was maybe 8 years older than us, and was a bit of a film-geek, really cheerful, had a tendency to talk too much if you got him started.  It seemed he'd only had one girlfriend in his life, and they were still 'long-distance' but it was fading.  He also still lived at home, at 34!  Emily was friendly to Charlie and hung out with him a bit. She suspected he liked her and still spent a lot of time with him.  She told me a lot about how lonely he was, and even suggested I go out with him.  I was having none of that.  No leftovers for me, thanks.  But Emily still kept hanging out with him, and inviting him to hang out with the two of us.  I'd meet her at the movies, and surprise!  there he was.  Her parents started to suspect things and discouraged the friendship because Emily is Chinese and Charlie was white.  He even came to my house once with her, and they sat together under one blanket.  I was annoyed.

My feelings, motives(?) at this time were mixed.  He genuinely was a nice fellow and I would have been happy to have him as a friend.  I let him come to my house I guess because I was encouraging the relationship.  I thought Emily was probably lying to herself about her feelings.  It made her feel good to be with him, but if she couldn't date him, either because she wouldn't leave her long-time boyfriend or because she couldn't stand up to her racist parents, she had to stop seeing Charlie even as a friend.  I thought she was leading him on, or using him to get over Adam.  She seemed pretty fickle to me, two guy in one summer while still with her boyfriend.  I felt really badly for Charlie if she wouldn't go through with it.  I tried to explain to her how much it hurts to be alone that long, how it feels to get your hopes up and have them dashed to pieces.... She just wanted things to go on as they were.

Her contract at that workplace ended and she was unemployed again.  She didn't know how much her co-workers knew about the two love interests, but she felt she could never work there again.  She threw herself into the old project, our never ending film.

We'd been working on the film for four years and it was a standing joke among our art friends to ask if we were finished yet.  We actually rewrote it that fall and the end seemed in sight.

Emily told her boyfriend about both the work guys, and he felt he'd been cheated on, and said some not-very-nice things.  In November they broke up for real.  Emily was probably really depressed but she throws herself into work when she's sad.  The film made some progress at this point and we decided we'd finally take that trip to Europe.  Oh to be in Paris in April!  Oh, to get away from all the turmoil at home!

I quit my teaching job that spring.  Emily got another short gig, working with this really disorganized artist who needed someone to keep him on track.  I planned the whole trip by myself since she was so stressed.
Just before we left, a guy she'd met at a wedding wrote to her and said he'd been very impressed by her.  He lived in London and offered to let us stay at his place.  I protested violently.  No way was I staying at a stranger's place while he was hitting on my friend.  I won that battle, I suppose, because we stayed at a hostel in London, but we did have to see him a few times.  He bored me.  One night she went out with him alone and stayed out quite late.  I was alone in the hostel and just to make things better there was a fire alarm and we had to evacuate.  When she finally came home I was crying quietly in my bed.  The next day she mumbled one sentence about having to give it a try but that she didn't feel anything special for him.  The subject was not mentioned again.

We travelled through England for three weeks.  It was mostly alright, but we stick so close to each other when we travel there's bound to be fights.  Travelling with a companion requires endless compromises and sacrifices and I can't help but feel some of her choices were a little selfish.  Maybe mine were just as bad.  Both of us were probably depressed at that point and had been for a long time.  We'd both been through a lot.  Travelling didn't solve our problems at home, or even let us leave them behind.

I remember one night she asked me if she had ruined her trip.  I said no, there was nobody I'd rather have gone with.

One night, we were alone in a hostel room in some big old mansion in a little Yorkshire town. I started talking about my health problems (ovarian cysts) and from there the worry that no one would ever date me, and I started crying.  She started talking about how she always notices nice looking guys with girls that aren't that attractive.  I was so exhausted I didn't even see that as insulting until weeks later.  She must have realized that wasn't a helpful observation and started repacking her bag, leaving me crying quietly on the floor.

Much later she apologized for not doing more at that moment.

Our last week was in Paris, and we fought almost the whole time.  I am on a special diet, and Paris wasn't condusive to that.  Do you think you can find multi-grain bread in Paris?  They eat nothing but white bread and pastry. Emily was always eating sweet things in front of me.  Meanwhile my digestion system was going haywire.  Emily's friend from high school happened to be in Paris at the same time and we hung out with her a lot.  I didn't think much of her, and she pretty much ignored me.  We went to dinner one night to try real French food.  I didn't want to go, I offered to leave them to it while I spent the evening exploring alone, but they insisted.  They ordered food I couldn't eat, the friend was rude to the waiters, they talked about high school while I sat there miserably.  I really thought I was going to cry at the table.  And it wasn't so much at what they were doing, but disappointment at myself that I didn't have the skills to turn the evening around.  I wasn't a food connoisseur, I didn't speak French, I couldn't find a way into the conversation, and when the high school friend asked if French people were Catholic or Christian I was pretty snotty.
Emily said quite fiercely it wasn't polite to discuss religion at dinner.
I think I went home alone.  At the hostel I crawled into bed and fell into a dead sleep.  I didn't hear Emily come in.  She told me she cried herself to sleep that night.  The next day she told me I was very rude not to join in the conversation.  I didn't do a good job of defending myself, couldn't explain how much I hated myself at that moment, nor how rude I thought they had been to me.

Somehow we got through the last bit of the trip.  Another airport separation without saying goodbye to each other, somehow another patched-up friendship.  I was pretty disappointed with her behaviour.  I remember phoning my friend Shelly when I got home and ranting and ranting.  I don't know why I didn't tell Emily my feelings....

That's enough for tonight.  The friendship takes another year to die, but I think I can tell the story pretty quickly.

Things to work on. Part Two: Health

I went to the doctor this week.  I have to have a blood test.  I've been feeling fatigued, dizzy, headachy...
I've gained weight.  Sometimes I have a pain in my side. 
In the Too Much Information category, I have ovarian cysts.  That's been a struggle I won't go into here, but I pretty much have it under control.  It's very commonly associated with diabetes so I'm a bit worried.  I preemptively put myself on a strict diet years ago.  It would be frustrating if my hard work didn't pay off.

The doctor kept asking me if I had mood swings, if I was feeling down, if I was suicidal.  It made me defensive.  I wouldn't admit to being the least bit depressed.  I'm chipper, perky and positive all the freaking time!  I was depressed a few years ago and went to counselling.  I really thought I'd beaten it.  Not that I'm happy with where I am in life at all, but I am working on changing things, instead of beating myself up and crying and feeling hopeless.  I'm convinced it's my body that's making me tired, not my brain.  After the appointment, I had doubts.  I'm really busy now with lots of fun projects, and feeling excited, but I have this feeling I'd be depressed if I ever stopped moving.  I'm not even sure what that means, but those were my thoughts.