The Hidden Masquerades & Mutuality.

My story is about a friendship I formed two years ago, it seems like much longer. We were two sad little girls sitting all alone with attachment issues.

One of my many nights of drinking, excessive drinking. ‘Classily’ indulging in two bottles of wine to myself, past the point of inebriation. Tonight was new, it was her house. She was this small eccentric ball of fun, like a small child chasing the butterflies. She was beautiful, so comfortable and alluring in her uniqueness. In my own way I was fascinated and mesmerised by how she drew people to her. I didn’t realise then the underlying toll that she was putting on herself by being part of this social gathering, by pretending to fit in.

Social_anxiety_by_FallenRox

The hours slowly passed and I was drunker(I wonder how that was even possible), thinking that I might make a pass at her but undecided if she was interested. It wasn’t what I expected when I walked into the dark room where she had been sitting, quietly isolating herself from the others with tears falling down her face. All my intentions quickly dissipated, this was different, this was real. Her body shook, physically racked by her emotions. I sat across from her, waiting for her to speak, uncertain if I should embrace her. Through the tears and jumbled words I found out that today was her dad’s birthday, her dad who had willingly taken his own life, like my own had.

I understood too well the pain that the selfish action causes to those around them. I asked her about him, trying to calm her breathing, I later confided in her something that only a handful of my closest friends new, the inner workings of person who also suffered from the abandonment of one’s parent, the build of attachment and trust issues. The deaths created foundations for our negative mental health. In her, I saw myself, I was the quieter subtly version of her, but we were still the same. Our friendship grew on the mutual hurt created by our parents. No one else understood in its entirety, no one could relate.

Her anxiety ruled her every day, not always able to leave the house. She would sit under all the covers on her bed, waiting for the day to be over, finding some comfort in the warmth. Her heart would start beating so fast, the quick panic written on her face, I could rarely calm her. The simplest of things would make her over-analyse, layer and layer of potential bad would fill her thoughts. The triggers making her fight the waves of nausea and the shaking confusion that would afflict her. I couldn’t make her panic go away, she was immune to the calm voices around her, the panic amplifying. I loved her and I still love her, she is a beautiful person that is slowly finding stability now, being more comfortable and happy for the first time in a year. I saw her the other day, the difference was overwhelming. In my own way I was the extremely proud mother.

1381394_839421942734750_954659834668011364_nMy pocket rocket.

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14 thoughts on “The Hidden Masquerades & Mutuality.”

  1. A powerful engagement for both of you. You certainly don’t need to get drunk to reach that place. In fact if you aren’t drunk, you’ll get even more from the experience. You already know that. It seems that relationships come out of the bottle, but they don’t; they arise in spite of the bottle. Your writing reveals growing depth of awareness. You write about reaching out from your inner self, which is on guard and vulnerable, but you are also strong in being able to go beyond yourself to a higher level of awareness and engagement. I deeply appreciate what it took you to write those words. You earned every step of the way.

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    1. Not binge drinking anymore is and was a really hard part of myself to conquer. I haven’t been drinking much at all since starting my medication, good example was my work xmas party last night, I had one glass of wine :). I’m really happy our friendship was strengtgrned by the bad things in life, the drinking in our friendship has left though, we just don’t need it. Thankyou so much Steve for your feedback, you always have insightful and cheering responses, thank you for all your encouragement. I sometimes wonder if I’m trying to be strong, am strong or pretending to be stronger than I am.

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  2. Hello! I just wanted to hop in and say hello and thank you for following my blog! I followed yours in return! Was wondering if you’d like to be part of the blog hop I have started. You can view it on my blog! Let me know!! 🙂

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  3. Thank you for being so honest about your background, I feel bad for the loss of your parent at such an early stage of your life, I would however challenge the notion that it was a selfish or cowardly act, I don’t believe anybody takes their own life unless they feel they are unable to experience any more pain

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    1. I don’t think it’s cowardly, I do have a bias perception of it, but I have also been on both sides of the fence. With the mental illness part, its been proven statistically that children whose parent commited suicide were more likely to have a mental illness after the death. People do come to the point where they believe there isn’t any options for them, people cant usually empathise with their inner turmoil. It’s a controversial debate, interesting all the same. Thanks for commenting!

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  4. Great title, I really enjoyed the read. I have written in metaphor and poetry it is very therapeutic.I think you could do this well. This is one of mine and the real story is the second one.The third is a poetry example from a very hard time in my life. I find that I can express more feeling in twists of words and it is very healing. you have great writing! https://byersje.wordpress.com/2014/11/02/destitute-when-all-seems-lost/
    https://byersje.wordpress.com/2014/11/12/my-story-in-loss-restoration/

    https://byersje.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/child-of-light/

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