The Path to Enlightenment

Anyone that has gone through a major life upheaval knows what it's like to lose friends along the way. To notice that your supportive circle has moved in closer, simply because it's gotten smaller and that was the best way to fill in the gaps. To not only deal with what you're going through, but also with finding out who the people you've called friend really are.

I just happened to go through four of those upheavals in the span of two years. As my therapist said, I was hit with trauma after trauma after trauma.... I went from adjusting to my new world with a wheelchair, to grieving my brother, to getting hit with job loss, then looking for a new place to live before ultimately moving back home. In this process, I lost a lot of friends as they quietly (or not so quietly) drifted away.

I'm finally in a place to say how glad I am that they're no longer in my life. Don't get me wrong, I miss the friendships and I cherish the memories we made. It just took me so long to realize that it wasn't. my. fault. My adjustment and grieving processes were mine and those that decided to leave had made it about them, upset that their well meaning help wasn't helping. I was pushed into things I wasn't ready for and admonished for "giving up" when I finally said no. I was given complete blame when things went up in flames rather than recognizing that we had both (or all) gotten in over our heads. And I took it because even before all of this, fault was always put on me that a relationship didn't work out or a friendship had disintegrated...

It wasn't my fault.

As horrible as it sounds, these things happen, especially in the face of something others don't understand. I had a reputation for adapting to the things I really wanted to do, so I think there was an assumption that I would do the same thing when I went into the wheelchair, but it wasn't as immediately possible as before since I knew nothing about wheelchairs or how far I could push my new limits. Patience was lost by me and those around me. In my grief, that little eternal optimist that sat on my shoulder blowing away the dark cloud that follows me was gone, and for a while I wasn't sure how to go about finding that same optimism again since couldn't even remember being that person. Suddenly I was called a negative person. When I finally decided to focus on me rather trying to be the person everyone was trying to convince me to be, I was told I just didn't see what I was doing to others.

I did see. I just didn't care anymore.

Or I cared too much.

I had been manipulated and controlled under the cover of trying to help me heal, when all I needed was support to figure out how to heal myself and understanding that I wasn't going to be the same person in the end. And so I chose to focus on me, listen to myself about what I needed. I decided I couldn't heal and appease others at the same time. And I chose me.

I. Chose. Me.

That seems to have been the tipping point for those that had been waiting on the edges to see what happened. Some fell back, out of sight and out of my world. Some tipped back in, happy to see how much stronger I was in that decision, bolstered by my new confidence and ready to help when needed... proud that I was now able to ask.

I miss the people we all were just a few years ago, but I won't apologize anymore for wanting better for myself in order to be a better friend, a healthy person. And I'm proud of myself for finally being able to say all of this and move on. I hope those I no longer have contact with have found the same peace.