So I’m back where I grew up for a week or so and had a slight amount of school girl grief this weekend…friend from school invited me to a little get together they were having, then another friend from school found out I was going and told them to uninvite me…
Turns out this friend and another haven’t liked me for 5 years now. It originated from when I went totally off the rails on a trip abroad 5 summers ago. I was totally out of control, and spent most of it drunk and acted really terribly. I wasn’t really horrible to anyone as far as I can remember but I was so much to deal with and made the trip really stressful for others with me. I’ve regretted it a lot since and am still so embarrassed at the thought of it, but having apologised for it (lots) I thought it was over and behind me.
Anyway, apparently these two have held it against me since and wanted nothing more to do with me. One of them wasn’t actually on the trip. Anyway it makes sense because I know I have been purposefully left out of things by them quite a lot and didn’t know why, so I’m glad I now know the reason. It does make me feel really awful to have people not liking me, and although I know I can’t change other people’s opinion of me I find it really hard to stomach! Especially actually when it is quite deserved and I know I’ve done wrong. I’m not one of these people who just doesn’t care about other people’s opinions (oh how I sometimes wish I was!).
Anyway it just made me think of the friends I’ve lost along the way due to mental illness, either because of the appalling ways I’ve acted or literally just because I’m mentally ill. Funnily enough they’ve all been in the ‘caring’ professions. I guess I do know a high proportion of healthcare professionals, but people working in the NHS who are suffering from mental illness are terribly stigmatised and I do think this attitude becomes engrained in to some people.
Like the close friend I was going to live with at Uni one year who I told I had depression who then decided she didn’t want to live with me anymore and never spoke to me again…and the housemate who moved out of my house last year after I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and tried to kill myself, and then proceeded to spread lies about me and my other housemate about the situation to everyone else at Uni. Still find it hard to believe that he actually did that. I am definitely way more hesitant to make friends with people now because of the hurt that caused.
Praise God that I have really good true friends who have stuck by me throughout and know all about what has been going on and been nothing but supportive, even when I have been a total nightmare, and really really horrible. I do feel really blessed at times like these for these lovely good forgiving friends. I guess that by going through stuff and sharing with others you get to find out who your real friends are and form much deeper relationships, so I’m grateful for that.
Secret Life of a Bipolar Doctor 