Fragile

I can’t explain it very well (as you will see below); but I am feeling decidedly fragile at the moment. At a time when I should be completely ecstatic – what with good things about to happen at work, and super developments with Boo – I feel rather low and upset…. I would love to say that it’s just the old catch-all “hormones”, or the continual (and frankly rather boring) “weight/food issues”; but I don’t actually think that’s it.

I think I miss my friends – past and present.

I know that as people grow up they sometimes grow apart, and that the idea that your friends are for life is unrealistic in today’s culture – where many people have more friends on facebook than in real life – but I feel like I’ve been rather careless in the past with some relationships that I should have treated with more respect. And I feel like I’m doing it again now.

Over the past 10 years or so, I’ve split up with five people who I considered “best” friends. Four of those people were almost like a package deal, and I’ll be honest when I say – I still don’t really even know what happened… they all seemed to turn on me like rabid dogs, and whilst I don’t think I did anything wrong – they all ended up hating me. Suffice to say it was a very messy and very expensive break up – and even now I come out in a bit of a cold sweat when I think about what happened. I still miss one member of that gang so much even after 7 years, and that’s despite the fact that towards the end of our relationship he was a complete and utter cunt to me.

I broke up with another very very dear friend just before I started this blogging malarkey. We’d been together for over 10 years – and I hold her almost entirely responsible for getting me through the dark days after my dad died. Again – I don’t really quite know what happened. One minute we were chit chatting about work, sex and weight – the next minute we were walking on eggshells around each other and she was debating whether our friendship was dead in the water… I miss her every day – but an overwhelming sense of pride and stubbornness (on both parts I like to think) stops us from bridging the gap and smoothing over whatever misunderstanding we’ve had.

Don’t get me wrong, my remaining best friends are all great. Fabulous. Of course I moan about them and get annoyed with them sometimes. Don’t we all? But they are all fun in different ways and we enjoy hanging out, over-analysing, getting drunk, crying and laughing together (amongst other things).

But – and here’s the killer - I get very overwhelmed with life sometimes – the constant chores and routine wares me down – and I get very selfish with my time with Boo and my niece and MYSELF. And I don’t put in enough effort. Nowhere near enough effort into keeping the relationships alive. I don’t call enough. I don’t text enough. I don’t e-mail enough. And I certainly don’t spend enough actually face to face time with them…

Am I the only one who has friends guilt?