The End of a Friendship
Sep. 9th, 2025 09:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jakebeI listen to the "Hidden Brain" podcast, one of those NPR joints that talk about...well, how we think and the ways we can change it. The episode I'm listening to is all about the importance of examining the story you tell yourself, why it matters, and gives you some basic principles on how to change it.
This is pretty close to what I had been trying to do with the whole "two stories" thing where I write down the story about my past I had been holding onto -- then examining it with enough distance to consciously change it into something better. Picking a heavy topic to start out with might not have been the best idea; it's still such a huge, raw hurt that it's difficult to treat it with emotional distance. Still, it's a neat idea that maybe would work with something a bit less intense.
So I'm going to talk about a recent friendship ending because I'm having trouble letting go of it. Maybe examining the story and shifting the narrative where appropriate might bring some closure. We'll call him Ohio here.
Ohio and I go way back; he was one of my very first Internet friends back in the late 90s and early 00s. I think we fell in with each other after I was coming out my college breakdown as part of a small crew that felt like the "B Team" of the Giant's Club. I loved his warped sense of humor and sense of shameless, open perversity; I have a kinship with people who find ways to be comfortable with their inner gremlin, and he had that vibe. It was genuinely liberating to embrace mine with him.
Over the years, for various reasons, we drifted apart. Recently he had been going through a really hard time with depression and family issues, another thing I feel strong sympathy for. I tried to help him by being a sounding board, listening while he talked through some of his spirals. He had a difficult relationship with his brother that really broke him after the death of his mother. He went through cycles of severe depression and intense self-analysis coupled with anger and resentment at people he felt weren't giving him due attention. Sometimes I was able to guess who he was talking about, and sometimes I had no clue. But there was a pattern of ill will toward people who didn't give him what he needed. I was never quite sure what he expected from folks, but I tried to talk him around to interrogating his feelings about that. I wasn't very good at it.
Throughout that time, I was dealing with my own stuff. I still am, of course. My sister died of a drug overdose and my mother wouldn't let anyone help her even after she clearly couldn't live on her own, so a year-long phone-screaming match ended with her in a nursing home -- exactly where she didn't want to be at the end of her life. When she died, she left a house she reverse-mortgaged and severely befouled and...nothing else. I couldn't even collect her life insurance because she never made me a beneficiary -- even though I had been paying it in full for years.
When Ohio's mother died, he was left an inheritance and insurance. In his grief, he effectively quit his job and bought collectible vintage video games and thought about buying another condo or house. It was...hard for me to sit with him through this, I'll admit. I try not to compare my family to others, but...it was hard to hear how hard his life was when I had been fighting for a couple thousand dollars from my mom's life insurance only to reach a dead end. It wasn't Ohio's fault, but the difference was stark and just...compounded my grief about my mom and everything I never got to have because of who she was.
I tried to talk to Ohio about this, but his response was to create a separate Bluesky account where he could geek out about his purchases without me seeing. It wasn't the video games that was the issue; it was the fact that my mom had died and I only got saddled with more debt on the other side of it. Instead of having the space to grieve, I had to go through all the bureaucracy of death alone, unprepared, with no funds. Ohio had never asked me about my mom, never offed condolences, never offered sympathy.
Over time, talking with Ohio became harder and harder because the conversation would only happen on his terms. He would demand people not reach out to him anywhere because he wanted to be alone, then resent them for not talking to him. One time he had asked me what he could do to be a better friend, and I told him he could just...ask me what's going on with me, take an interest in my well-being. He said he was "embarrassed" that it had to be explained to him and agreed he would. But he never did.
About two months ago, he emerged from his most-recent hermitage to talk and we had a conversation that I thought went pretty well. Then I found out he had blocked me on Bluesky.
This just...triggered me. I feel like I've taken so much care with Ohio to validate his feelings, be a sympathetic ear for his struggle, try to gently correct him if I think his perspective's off. From my perspective, any mild criticism could send him into this self-flagellating spiral, so it was very hard to be open with him. I think he and I share a rejection-sensitive dysphoria, and while I try hard to manage it, it felt like he would look for any sign of ill-favor. So many conversations turned into constant reassurances, and I set aside my own hurt feelings many, many times to prop him up.
As far as I can tell, he thinks I'm some judgemental, blocked person unwilling to do the shadow work that he has so recently conquered. He wants people who are open and casually sexual, and people to take him as he is. It's infuriating to me that after all the effort I've put in to preserving this friendship, at emotional harm to myself, he would just...cut me out like that.
Every once in a while during my weaker moments I find myself trying to look at his Bluesky, which is not healthy I'll totally admit. I think it's a form of 'hate-watching', looking for tidbits that allow me to see him as the 'terrible friend' I believe him to be. But he, like my mom, is in a kind of hell of his own making. No matter what you do to preserve the peace, some folks will demand more and more. I had been thinking of Ohio as a 'psychic vampire' of sorts; I guess that description still feels apt, so why does it bother me so much that he no longer wants to feed off me?
I think it just goes back to the idea of...doing all this work that no one asks me to do and being resentful when it doesn't bear fruit or isn't recognized. It's frustrating to sink so much energy into someone who just never gave a shit about you -- especially when I have so little to spare, and there are so many people who DO care I should be pouring it into.
For now, I wish I could stop *giving* him energy he's not even using. It's clear he's not thinking about me, so...with time, and hopefully a few more lessons from the whole experience, I can let go of the relationship.
This is pretty close to what I had been trying to do with the whole "two stories" thing where I write down the story about my past I had been holding onto -- then examining it with enough distance to consciously change it into something better. Picking a heavy topic to start out with might not have been the best idea; it's still such a huge, raw hurt that it's difficult to treat it with emotional distance. Still, it's a neat idea that maybe would work with something a bit less intense.
So I'm going to talk about a recent friendship ending because I'm having trouble letting go of it. Maybe examining the story and shifting the narrative where appropriate might bring some closure. We'll call him Ohio here.
Ohio and I go way back; he was one of my very first Internet friends back in the late 90s and early 00s. I think we fell in with each other after I was coming out my college breakdown as part of a small crew that felt like the "B Team" of the Giant's Club. I loved his warped sense of humor and sense of shameless, open perversity; I have a kinship with people who find ways to be comfortable with their inner gremlin, and he had that vibe. It was genuinely liberating to embrace mine with him.
Over the years, for various reasons, we drifted apart. Recently he had been going through a really hard time with depression and family issues, another thing I feel strong sympathy for. I tried to help him by being a sounding board, listening while he talked through some of his spirals. He had a difficult relationship with his brother that really broke him after the death of his mother. He went through cycles of severe depression and intense self-analysis coupled with anger and resentment at people he felt weren't giving him due attention. Sometimes I was able to guess who he was talking about, and sometimes I had no clue. But there was a pattern of ill will toward people who didn't give him what he needed. I was never quite sure what he expected from folks, but I tried to talk him around to interrogating his feelings about that. I wasn't very good at it.
Throughout that time, I was dealing with my own stuff. I still am, of course. My sister died of a drug overdose and my mother wouldn't let anyone help her even after she clearly couldn't live on her own, so a year-long phone-screaming match ended with her in a nursing home -- exactly where she didn't want to be at the end of her life. When she died, she left a house she reverse-mortgaged and severely befouled and...nothing else. I couldn't even collect her life insurance because she never made me a beneficiary -- even though I had been paying it in full for years.
When Ohio's mother died, he was left an inheritance and insurance. In his grief, he effectively quit his job and bought collectible vintage video games and thought about buying another condo or house. It was...hard for me to sit with him through this, I'll admit. I try not to compare my family to others, but...it was hard to hear how hard his life was when I had been fighting for a couple thousand dollars from my mom's life insurance only to reach a dead end. It wasn't Ohio's fault, but the difference was stark and just...compounded my grief about my mom and everything I never got to have because of who she was.
I tried to talk to Ohio about this, but his response was to create a separate Bluesky account where he could geek out about his purchases without me seeing. It wasn't the video games that was the issue; it was the fact that my mom had died and I only got saddled with more debt on the other side of it. Instead of having the space to grieve, I had to go through all the bureaucracy of death alone, unprepared, with no funds. Ohio had never asked me about my mom, never offed condolences, never offered sympathy.
Over time, talking with Ohio became harder and harder because the conversation would only happen on his terms. He would demand people not reach out to him anywhere because he wanted to be alone, then resent them for not talking to him. One time he had asked me what he could do to be a better friend, and I told him he could just...ask me what's going on with me, take an interest in my well-being. He said he was "embarrassed" that it had to be explained to him and agreed he would. But he never did.
About two months ago, he emerged from his most-recent hermitage to talk and we had a conversation that I thought went pretty well. Then I found out he had blocked me on Bluesky.
This just...triggered me. I feel like I've taken so much care with Ohio to validate his feelings, be a sympathetic ear for his struggle, try to gently correct him if I think his perspective's off. From my perspective, any mild criticism could send him into this self-flagellating spiral, so it was very hard to be open with him. I think he and I share a rejection-sensitive dysphoria, and while I try hard to manage it, it felt like he would look for any sign of ill-favor. So many conversations turned into constant reassurances, and I set aside my own hurt feelings many, many times to prop him up.
As far as I can tell, he thinks I'm some judgemental, blocked person unwilling to do the shadow work that he has so recently conquered. He wants people who are open and casually sexual, and people to take him as he is. It's infuriating to me that after all the effort I've put in to preserving this friendship, at emotional harm to myself, he would just...cut me out like that.
Every once in a while during my weaker moments I find myself trying to look at his Bluesky, which is not healthy I'll totally admit. I think it's a form of 'hate-watching', looking for tidbits that allow me to see him as the 'terrible friend' I believe him to be. But he, like my mom, is in a kind of hell of his own making. No matter what you do to preserve the peace, some folks will demand more and more. I had been thinking of Ohio as a 'psychic vampire' of sorts; I guess that description still feels apt, so why does it bother me so much that he no longer wants to feed off me?
I think it just goes back to the idea of...doing all this work that no one asks me to do and being resentful when it doesn't bear fruit or isn't recognized. It's frustrating to sink so much energy into someone who just never gave a shit about you -- especially when I have so little to spare, and there are so many people who DO care I should be pouring it into.
For now, I wish I could stop *giving* him energy he's not even using. It's clear he's not thinking about me, so...with time, and hopefully a few more lessons from the whole experience, I can let go of the relationship.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-10 04:51 am (UTC)If you ever feel like it might help sharing experiences or something I'm happy to.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-18 01:10 am (UTC)Trying to pinpoint Ohio's feelings and motivations might lead to a nigh infinite series of transgressions. 😅
That said, I feel like I can sympathize greatly. When I lost my mother, it was in a very traumatic way and some of those I considered closest to me did not react at all how I anticipated. Due to the circumstances behind my mother's slow death, I experienced complex grief over the course of three years--plenty of time to transfer a lot of the frustration I had with these "friends" onto most accquaintances. And while I know my feelings were less hostile and more nihlistic, I get it.
It's a shame he never got the help he needed to work past all that animosity. It wasn't your responsibility, but you tried. Yet things continued heating to a simmering acrimony for him. And who knows why precisely? I doubt even he knows with total certainty.
I don't know the circumstances of his mother's death, but it sounds like you were dealing with a complex grieving process drawn out over the course of 2+ years between your sister and your mother. In a way, this friendship dying is yet another drawn out grieving process. There's no body. Just a bunch of unanswered questions that may very well never be answered with the certainty you want.
One book that's really helped me through what has been an adulthood of non-stop grief that never ends, just intesnifies is:
The Grief Recovery Handbook: A Program for Moving Beyond Death, Divorce, and Other Devastating Losses
It's like a life-jacket that keeps you afloat in the choppy waters of grief. Long enough to keep your cool (and keep your head above the waves).