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I found out last night that one of my oldest friends is dead. Suddenly, unexpectedly, and we are not sure why. Might have been her heart. Might be something else.

She is gone when she was finally getting much needed improvements in her life. The last picture she sent me is of her and her husband smiling and happily goofy. He found her dead on their couch Monday. 

My friend, who I have kept in contact with over all these years, is gone. I was maybe 11 or 12 when we first met, she was about a year and a half older. I don’t remember it, but she said I stood up for her in the face of bullies on the school bus. Maybe I don’t remember because I was bullied so hard myself, and it might have been that I found another one like me and simply sat next to her so we could be weirdo outcasts together. As I recall, she looked way tougher than me back then, and I was hoping to find a friend to have my back. 

Whatever happened that day on the bus, it left us friends for life. I moved away, she moved away, I moved closer, she moved away, and then I moved really really far away. It didn’t matter, we still had video chats and made each other laugh til we snorted. 
I miss her. I was wanting to ask her advice on how to make wire work jewellery, since she had been making and posting pictures of her work which was really amazing. I thought we’d have more time. She was only 46, just days away from 47.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this. I’m writing it out as I can’t speak half as clear as I can write. I could write for days about my friend and our shared lives. I can’t do that now.

Instead I’m going to be a bit selfish and wallow in my grief. I’ve also finally broken my veneer that is ‘hard ass’ and let the pressure and uncertainty of my husband’s continuing illness and the sheer fuckarow of the Irish health service. I do NOT want to talk about his issues until the fix what they can, but the messing around we have gotten means he has been in constant pain for over two months, and the opiates he is on barely work, and we still have another week to wait, IF they don’t cancel his surgery again. We can’t even begin to think about how hard it will be to break off of two months of heavy addictive painkillers. We need the source of pain to be fixed, then we can deal with that. 

So. I’ve kind of cracked. Again. I can deal with one major issue and look like I’m laughing it off. But add another and I fall apart. I’m still not over losing Spot, and why should I be? Death is a big bad one for me since my mother died; I have triggers for major depression when people or fur people die, that means I have to watch myself. I wish I was stronger mentally but sometimes the load gets too heavy.

I didn’t write this for replies, but because I had to to get it out of my head a little. Email me if you want to talk. I doubt I’ll be up to a big discussion here. 

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21 responses »

  1. I am so sorry. I wish I had the magic words to help you through this, but I don’t. Just know that my heart is with you and I’m sending virtual hugs.

  2. I have a small inkling of your hellish situation, and his. It doesn’t help, I know, but you are being ‘carried in my pocket’ and thought about. Don’t worry too much about the opiates. I got myself off high doses after my spinal surgery with the help of my GP and carefully graduated doses. It takes time and lots of gritted teeth, but it can be done.

  3. Thinking of you both. Sometimes we hit a spot in our lives when things get really tough. I’ve been there. Hang on in, do what ever you can to keep yourself going. And so sorry about your friend.

  4. I so understand your pain…truly I do. I’m not making that up..within months of each other I lost my sister of choice…we had been friends from birth, my beloved grandmother, my dada and my mom. It all sucks. But a wise lady once told me…all you can do is keep going forward…there is nothing else. So that is what we do…gradually one second of everyday forward.

    Hugs!

  5. Sorry to here you’re going through such an awful time Spiders. Life seems to do that – one minute all is rosy and then shit gets piled on your head in great proportions, and sometimes carries on coming for some time. It’s sad and hard losing very old friends. Someone once said that your life, and circle of friends shrink as you age, and it’s true, so when you lose your oldest and closest it leaves a big hole in your world. And the holes stay when special people go, like a damaged spider’s web – except the spider can repair her holes and we can’t.

  6. We have never met except via this social media connection, yet I feel we’d likely become good friends should we meet. We seem to have much in common. I, too, process through writing. The written word comes much more easily to me than speech. So this post seems quite a healthy way of dealing with some very difficult problems in your life. No, “problems” isn’t the right word. “Problem” presumes that there is a solution that could be reached if one works on it hard enough. Grief is not a problem. It is the normal suffering that comes with a sudden, tragic loss. Depression can be a medical condition, but is more often just the normal result of encountering the shit that life throws at you. When sad things happen–and goodness knows the media gives us a steady diet of sad and upsetting things besides what happens in our own lives–why would we not be sad?

    I won’t repeat the advice others have given you. You know it already I’m sure. And if you are like me (and in fact you did say you didn’t write this for the replies) you just need to weep on your keyboard. I understand.

    • Thank you – I still think we have mutual friends in common, or at least acquaintances.
      Today, right now, is especially hard as it is her birthday, would have been 47 today. Seeing FB posts from her husband and son broke me down, but having to do one myself has sent me back to crying. There is just so MUCH I can say but can’t seem to find a place to say it in.
      I despise therapy, by the way – I will never be honest sitting across from someone with a time limit on my ‘problems.’ And of course the talking thing 🙂

  7. It’s ok to be not ok. So sorry for the loss of your dear young friend..life can knock the stuffing out of us for sure. Hopefully the planned surgery can finally go ahead soon..it’s hard to get into our public health system, but once in he will have the best of attention. Good luck to you both.

    • He’s been in, and it has been substantially less than the best of attention. I’m still living in fear that they are going to cancel again tomorrow as the surgeon has gone missing and/or there aren’t any beds.

      • Very sorry to hear that. Hopefully things can improve. Unfortunately we hear this all the time about elective surgery being cancelled for the most serious of conditions. Hopefully the pain management can be as effective as possible while the waiting continues.

  8. you HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT IT! I would write “what else can you do?!” but we know there is more you can do, and probably as importantly, not do.

    my brothers ‘n sis decided I would write my parents (both died a few weeks apart) obituaries. in reflection, I wish I would have gone slower for that. one of my posts has a title like “mostly about Sally” or something like that — in which I did take my time. reflect. ponder. remember. and the age(s) you and friend are, is, well, stunning.

    and, well, I don’t “know you” but you (obvious to me) ARE ‘strong’ — you haven’t curled up into a ball and become incommunicado.

    and I wish there was the option to “like” many of the previous responses —

  9. Some tragedies do not require a direction when it comes to writing about them (I can relate) – so you go right ahead and spill it out! It would be a sad thing if you couldn’t express how hurt, lost, and confused you feel! My last bit of advice is to remember the good times (you have a great start!) and dwell on those instead of the loss – it helps a lot!

Thoughts? Gardening tips? Cocktail recipes? Don't just like and leave, please - I can talk for Ireland and would love to prove it!

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