The Core

I have been here before. Sort of. Years ago. Knowing a close friend had developed a cocaine addiction was more than I could handle. I knew he would start lying to me. He would start doing it when I was around or sneaking off to do it and then try to act like he wasn't high. I knew I would worry about him at all times and I would no longer trust him. I knew that I could not emotionally handle watching him snort away his life and tell me “It's just a phase”. So, I walked away before his “phase” did me in. The experience, along with life at the time in general, sent me into a depression that I have never experienced before and have not experienced since thanks to a little bit of help.

This time is different. Partly because I have “a little bit of help”, but also because there is no cocaine. There are however, very difficult, unfair problems. And this time it wasn't just a friend. “It's not who you are,” my Mom told me today, “You stick around when the going gets tough.” We were talking about my sadness in having to walk away this time, too. How much it pains me to not be there for someone who saw me as a confidante, a friend, and a love.

What does it say about me as a person that I had to walk away? That I can not handle it when someone I care about is dealing with their problems in a way that I would not? Am I sheltered? Weak? Do I lack compassion or understanding? I know people are human. I have learned that I am a fragile one despite my trucker mouth and sometimes-too-honest way of talking to people. I struggle with being simultaneously clingy and in desperate need of space, and a bit of a control freak with a tendency towards depression. I pendulum back and forth between being a “just get your shit together” type and having concern and compassion to the point of paralysis. When I care about someone, especially if they have shown me unconditional love as he did, the exterior protection falls off me like useless rusted armor and everything hurts ten-fold.

When I was told I was diabetic, I was taught how to manage it. You take shots, this many, this number of times a day. And now, I'm on the pump. When I found out something was wrong with me, something life-threatening, I learned how to be as healthy as possible and then I just did it. There was no other choice. I do not want to die, do not want to go blind or lose some of my toes or treat myself so poorly that I will never be able to bear children (if I ever fucking get around to attempting it, that is). I did not want to leave the people who love me by being reckless with my condition.

I wish it were that way for anyone who had a health issue. But it's simply not. For me, it was figure out what you need to do and just do it, but some scenarios are more complicated than that. He thought that what I saw was an ugly person with an ugly core. I wish that were the case, because then it would not hurt so much to not have him in my life anymore. In truth, what I saw was a beautiful person with an ugly problem to deal with.

Now that he's not here to remind me, I have to try to remind myself that although I feel I have let down someone very important to me, I too am human.