Sorry, Trump supporter, I can’t be your friend anymore.

bobandsally

Cartoon Credit: Unknown.

 

A few days ago, I unfriended an old Facebook friend because I couldn’t handle her constant pro-Trump memes and posts anymore.  Later, she asked me why I unfriended her.  I decided to be honest.  She replied that she thought I was being silly for unfriending people over something as shallow as politics.

But she missed the point.   I didn’t unfriend her because I didn’t agree with her politics.  Because it’s not about mere politics.  It’s not about Democrat vs. Republican.   It’s not about liberal vs. conservative.   It’s not about right vs. left.

It’s about good vs. evil.

It’s about whether you’re on the side of the bullies and sociopaths and applaud their scorched earth terrorist tactics vs.  being a decent fucking human being.  It’s about whether you’re on the side of a wealthy group of selfish criminals vs.  the average Joes and Janes just trying to get by.

So, if you still support the dictator sitting in the White House, you are supporting evil, and I can no longer be your friend.

I can handle mere differences of ideology, and in normal times, I have.   I used to have friends who were George W. Bush or Reagan supporters, though I never voted for either of them.  I could respect your differing opinion and agree to disagree with you, without it affecting our friendship, because I still knew that you were a good and decent person.

But if you still support Trump,  I’m not at all sure you’re a good and decent person, and you’re certainly not anyone I’d call a friend.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who separates children from their parents, many of whose parents were applying for asylum legally.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who puts young children in cages.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who wants to take away my healthcare.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who threatens to steal away the social security I’ve been paying into since 1976, leaving me penniless in my final years.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who threatens to steal away the Medicare I’ve been paying into since 1976, leaving me without healthcare in my final years, possibly to die penniless and in great pain.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who’s packing the courts with patriarchal  hardline conservatives who are waging war on women’s reproductive rights, not only threatening to overturn Roe v. Wade, but also outlawing certain forms of birth control. Their decisions will affect my daughter, who has medical issues that would make pregnancy very high risk and possibly dangerous for her.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who wants to bring back pre-existing conditions, making it impossible for my daughter, who has several medical conditions, to access healthcare — or for me to access healthcare, for that matter.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who is appointing hard-right judges who want to outlaw gay marriage and make gay people undergo conversion therapy or return to the closet.   That affects my son, who will no longer be free to live in a way that makes him happy or love the person he chooses.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who bullies the disabled.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who calls people who disagree with him unflattering names.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who has shown zero respect for women or POC.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who constantly gaslights his own people.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who thumbs his nose at the rule of law every single day.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a pathological liar.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a malignant narcissist who only cares about his own image and his own wealth — at the expense of the American people.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who admires the most brutal and inhumane despots and dictators of our time and aspires to be just like them.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who emboldens bullying  (by riling up his base at his rallies and inciting violence toward groups of people he dislikes)

A friend of mine doesn’t support a fascist who is destroying democracy and systematically shredding our 242 year old Constitution and Bill of Rights into so much hamster bedding.

A friend of mine doesn’t support a man who causes my PTSD to be triggered every freaking day.

A friend of mine doesn’t aid and abet evil, and that’s what you’re doing when you support Trump.

So, Trump supporter, those are just some of the reasons why we can’t be friends.

Sorry but that’s just how it has to be.

I’ll end this rant with the same words you like to spit at us “libtards” and “snowflakes” —

Get over it.

Advertisements

Getting unfollowed by a friend.

did-i-do-something-wrong

Someone I’ve been blogging buddies with for 3 – 4 years just unfollowed me (on Twitter — I don’t know about here on WordPress yet because I can’t keep track of who is following me and who is not so for now, that will remain a mystery).

I’m more hurt than I expected to be, since my friend and I hadn’t spoken in some time.   There was never a falling-out or disagreement or parting of the ways (that I know of), but we just sort of lost contact.  I noticed some time ago that she stopped commenting and even Liking my posts.   I did know she was very busy with her family, and writing a book too.   At the same time, I started getting politically involved and the focus of my blog changed along with that.   Maybe that’s what the problem is.   It’s not that my friend disagrees with my feelings because I don’t think she does, but I think politics is just an area she doesn’t like to focus on (and I can’t say I blame her for that, if that’s what it is).   But, I’m not sure that’s what it is.  It could be anything really.

I don’t know.  I’m kind of hurt, so I sent her a DM asking why she unfollowed me, because I really would like to know.    I valued our friendship, even though I wasn’t that great about keeping in touch or answering messages promptly.      Maybe she unfollowed me by accident — it does happen sometimes.   Since she still has an active blog and a Twitter account, I know it isn’t one of those cases of “disappearing friends” that suddenly are just gone and you have no idea what happened to them or even if they are still alive.

If you are reading this and you know this is you I’m referring to, drop me a DM or an email please?

*****

Further reading:

When Bloggers Just Disappear

I’m thinking about contacting my narcissist ex.

missyouasshole

For the past week or so, I’ve been actually missing my emotionally abusive, narcissistic ex husband.   Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t like him, and I’m not making excuses for him (I still know he’s a narc and know No Contact is best).  I don’t want to be friends with him.  I don’t want to visit him, have lunch with him, or have him over to my house.   I realize the dangers of even having phone conversations with him; it would be a slippery slope into a relapse or very triggering situation (and I’m already triggered enough as it is right now).

But even at the height of his abusive behavior (here’s a semi-funny-but-not-really story about one way he used to manipulate and mentally torture me), there always remained those rare times I actually enjoyed his company.   I enjoyed his intellect.  It was almost as if at certain times, when he could talk about something he actually knew a lot about, he became less narcissistic — or I was able to look past it — or something.  There were certain topics having nothing to do with ourselves or the kids that we could have long, intellectual conversations about without fighting.  Politics was one of them.   We always were on the same page about politics, and we used to get into long, rather enjoyable intellectual discussions, sometimes with a little weed providing a kind of social lubricant.   These conversations never ended badly, unlike almost everything else.

My daughter visits her dad at least once or twice a week, since he lives nearby.   She says all he talks about anymore is the political situation, and how much he hates Trump.    Meanwhile, I have very few — really no — people in real life I can talk to about the political situation, which gets more threatening and scary by the day.    My daughter agrees with my views, but hates talking about it, and my son (who also agrees with me and is gay so he feels very much under threat by the Trump administration’s anti-gay rhetoric) has been escaping into entertainment, movies, games, and work because he doesn’t want to deal with it at all. My daughter’s boyfriend, who I get along with otherwise, does not agree with us about Trump, unfortunately (I thought he was changing his mind, but he never really did).   I really don’t have any other close friends or family I can talk to about this and it’s driving me crazy.

My daughter just went up to see her dad, and I asked her to give him a message.  I told her to tell him I missed our political discussions, and to give him my phone number in case he ever wanted to talk politics.    She said he probably wouldn’t call me, and that’s okay, but I wanted to extend the invitation.   I feel very much alone these days in an increasingly scary country that is about to get a whole lot worse (unless some miracle happens soon) and want a real life person to talk to about this, even if it’s a narc I was married to, because there just really isn’t anyone else.

I’ll provide an update, should he take me up on my offer, but he probably won’t.   I’m pretty much dead to him.

Eeyore wisdom.

Image

eeyorewisdom

Being vulnerable requires the courage of 1,000 strong men.

brene_brown_birthplace

 

The above meme pretty much explains the entirety of what this post is about and I could easily leave it at that.   But I am just itching right now to talk about this, because I feel like I just accomplished something pretty great–all because I was finally willing to take a big risk, one I normally wouldn’t take:  I let go of my fear of rejection long enough to tell someone I’ve grown to care about and like very much (as a friend) the truth about the way I felt about them, instead of skirting around my real feelings and avoiding the subject (but secretly going nuts).

I’ve always assumed (because of my internal programming) that I didn’t deserve to be liked or loved, and used to even push away people I liked through either becoming too needy and demanding (stepping over their boundaries), or too avoidant and aloof (building up too many boundaries for protection).  There was no in between for me–it was always one or the other.   I had no ability to regulate my reactions to others or defenses against them.

I also believed that I wasn’t loveable or even likeable, due to my internal programming.  My NM (narcissist mother)  taught me that I was not (though she never said she didn’t love me, I just knew because her actions and behaviors told me she did not).   I believed that if anyone ever got to know “the real me,” whatever THAT was, that they would grow to hate me.  And, because I was always sabotaging myself, sometimes I (unconsciously) made sure that would actually happen — by demanding too much, being too needy or high maintenance, or sometimes, rejecting THEM when I feared they might be getting ready to reject ME (pre-emptive rejection).    I did a lot of projecting too.  Assuming people were angry at me when actually I was the one who was angry at them.  Assuming they felt sorry for me when I actually just felt sorry for myself.  And assuming they would leave when actually it was really me who wanted to leave.   In those cases,  I could beg them to stay and be able to tell myself I did nothing wrong when they finally DID leave me.  Yes, I could be a manipulative little bitch!  (But I had no idea what I was doing).

All this borderline crap was so painful, that over time, I built a thin covert-narcissistic defense over these unstable and unpredictable  behaviors.  (By the way, my therapist finally agrees with me that this is exactly what happened).  I stopped trying to reach out to anyone; I kept to myself, became a near recluse.  I avoided people when they would approach me, or made excuses why I was too busy.  I’d tell myself I didn’t like people–only animals (who would never judge or shame me and would always appreciate me).   I’d tell myself I was too good for other people anyway so I didn’t have to feel that shame of feeling left out of things (which I’d really set myself up for by sabotaging any incipient friendships when they seemed to be getting too close).

Even online, where I generally feel safer connecting with people and making friends, I’d still hold other people at arm’s length and let them tell me a lot more about themselves than I’d ever tell them (except in my blog posts).   I still felt like if I revealed too much, even online, I’d be dismissed as the “weak loser” my inner judge (really my mother’s nagging voice) always told me I was.   I cared about the friends I met online and could allow myself a little more emotional vulnerability (and could allow myself to empathize with them) than I could with others in real life, but still stopped myself at a point just short of a true emotional connection.  Eventually most of these friends moved on to more fertile waters, where there’d be more emotional give and take.

A few months ago, I met a new friend, one who I felt I could very much relate to in many ways, although some circumstances are different.   We had similar childhoods and reacted to our cold, abusive, more outgoing and garrulous  mothers  in similar ways.  Neither of us dared outshine our sparkling, charming, narcissistic mothers so we became shadows of what we could have been, never taking risks, never reaching out in healthy, authentic ways.   We walled ourselves off from others to avoid further rejection.   We are both broken people,  in therapy for early childhood trauma, but we are also both beginning to heal as we learn to navigate the many strange new feelings that are now finally becoming accessible to us.   We are not at the same stage of our journeys, but we have met at a kind of crossroads where both our journeys have met.    I believe this woman is a teacher to me, who came at a time when it was needed.   I may be a teacher to her as well, though I don’t want to assume that.

Although I value and care about all my online friends, I felt a kind of special kinship with this particular woman.  I had a strong feeling she had something very important to teach me that no one else could.  We began a tentative friendship, sometimes talking about the “deep stuff,” but mostly skirting around the real issues out of fear of revealing too much or making ourselves too vulnerable.     Over time, my affection and caring for this woman deepened (not romantic feelings, just a desire for deeper and more meaningful friendship) but I began to worry that if I told her how I really felt, that I would be rejected.  Again, that was me projecting my own insecurity onto her.   But on the other hand, this person is shy and avoidant, and it seemed logical that I might easily scare her away if I revealed too much, just as I can be so easily scared by too much emotional intensity from others.

And yet I long for emotional intensity, in spite of my fear of it.    I know that you can’t feel truly alive until you can be vulnerable and open your heart to another person, even though there’s a risk of being hurt.   But I’m lonely and isolated and tired of living behind walls of my own making.

I talked to my therapist about this at length.  I told him I wanted to reach out to this friend and tell her my feelings, even though I was scared to death.    He encouraged me to do so, saying it would be good practice for me and that even if I was rejected, it would still be a big step for me just for having tried.   He asked me to think about whether I was ready.    I did, and realized I was.

vulnerability_courage

This morning I finally did it.  I was a nervous wreck, imagining the worst and trying to brace myself for her inevitable escape!  I never trusted myself to know when I’d breached someone else’s boundaries because I never learned how to keep good boundaries or know how to navigate those of others.   I was taking a huge chance!

But I’ve had practice now, and in therapy have learned a lot about being able to tell without asking when it’s okay to remove boundaries or when it’s best to step away or build reinforcements.   So my friend and I finally talked on Facebook. We talked for over an hour.   I told her how protective and maternal I felt toward her, so much so that the thought of anyone hurting this incredibly strong but vulnerable woman (who is younger than me) makes me feel so enraged I would want to beat them to a pulp (and I’m not a violent type of person at all).  Maybe I have a “rescuer complex,” I don’t know, but why analyze it?    Once I started talking, things got easier.   I spilled out my need to explore my own vulnerability with her and start to navigate these “dangerous” waters of meaningful emotional connection and real friendship.

It turned out that she was grateful  that I brought my feelings up, because she had been worrying she might have told me too much before (she hadn’t).  But after my admission, she realized I was someone she could trust and she could feel safe opening up even more.    We both got pretty emotional, and if we were physically in front of each other, this would have been the moment we embraced and the swelling movie-music would have started up.

A few minutes later she sent me a heartbreaking post (in PDF) she had written a few days before about her cold, narcissistic mother and how helpless she had always felt in front of her.  It was so raw and  vulnerable and beautifully written (and I could relate to it so much) that it brought me to tears.  My friend said it also had made her feel so vulnerable and triggered after she wrote it that she decided to take her whole blog down (a blog which she had never made public).    I think that at some point she will probably want to share that post with the world, because I think it would help so many people and it touched me so much.   But I understand if she’s not ready for that yet.  It’s a big step, one that might be too overwhelming for her at the moment.   I’m just so grateful and moved that she trusted me enough to share it with me.

I know I need to respect her boundaries and not be too pushy about that or anything else.    I’ve realized that learning to connect with another person, and learning when boundaries should be removed or stay in place, is like an intricate dance — knowing when it’s your turn, when it’s the other person’s turn, being careful to not to step on the toes of the other, but still remain courageous enough to reveal your heart when it feels right and sometimes learn to let go and let your partner spin you around.   And also, always be willing to risk the possibility you may fall and get hurt.

Relationships are kept in balance and become healthy through empathic understanding of and respect for each other’s need for either more space or deeper connection, and this type of empathy is, fortunately, something we both possess, but just were never trained to use — and never had the confidence to try.

I feel like I made progress today, and I can’t wait to tell my therapist.  I know he will be proud of me, but mostly I’m proud of myself for taking a risk and finding that instead of the rejection I’d so feared,  that I helped someone else open their heart to me even more.   As my friend said to me later, we are helping each other learn, and this is a valuable and wonderful experience for both of us which can help us grow even more, as long as we’re both mindful about it.   Everyone you meet in life has the potential to become a teacher, and my friend has taught me today that vulnerability is the greatest kind of strength and the only thing that can lead us out of the darkness.

Come closer…go away.

goaway_comecloser

I’ve begun to experience some powerful feelings for someone right now.   It’s hard to describe, since I haven’t met this person and most likely never will (which is perfectly okay).   The feeling is a bizarre mix of low-level limerence (but that’s not quite it), empathy, and friendship (affection), but really, none of these really describe it.  The closest way I guess I can describe the feeling is the transference feelings one sometimes develops toward a therapist (and I do have those too).

Idealization of a person is something that comes naturally to me as a borderline.  I know it’s idealization because I don’t know them very well and haven’t seen their flaws.   I’m a person who prefers to live out romantic fantasy in private, because the reality of an actual relationship never lives up to the perfect fantasy I’ve constructed in my mind (even though part of me longs for a real connection with someone in the physical world).   This individual seems to be a kind of a mirror to me right now, similar to the way my therapist also is mirroring me.   But in no way is this individual in a therapist role.   I consider myself friends with this individual, but I have to be very, very careful because I can tell they need a lot of space–and I don’t want them to know how strongly I feel.  It’s a delicate push-pull balance–a kind of dance, almost:  to maintain a balance between my desire to get closer and possibly overstep boundaries (and get hurt), and not giving enough or even pre-emptive rejection of someone I like due to my own deep fear of rejection.

I’ve talked about this with my therapist and he thinks this is good practice for me and is a sign I’m beginning to connect in more meaningful ways and learning to be mindful about it at the same time.  But it sure isn’t second nature yet.   In the past I always either became obsessed and overwhelmed people by trying to get too close too soon, or avoided them (in spite of my strong feelings) to not have to experience possible rejection.  There was never any in between.

My online friends.

goodfriends

While I wouldn’t wish narcissistic abuse from either families of origin or ex-lovers or spouses on anyone,  I’m grateful there are others besides me who have experienced it and that we have found each other.   If it weren’t for the Internet, that never would have been possible, and I’d still be reeling from the abuse all alone and wondering why no one else in the world could relate to my pain.   Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without my little community of ACON bloggers and readers who have suffered this type of trauma.  Very few people you meet in daily life get it.   It’s also not something you can just tell people about.  The anonymity of the Internet helps give us the courage to speak up.

It makes me sad to hear your stories, but at the same time, it’s great to be part of a found online family that is so supportive of one another and give each other virtual hugs and hope.

I’m very grateful to each and every one of you.  Thank you for being my friend and a friend to one other.

 

“Should We Feel Sorry for Narcs”?

Fellow ACON blogger Fivehundredpoundpeep takes issue with my post from earlier today. I had a feeling this would be a point of contention between us, since my religious beliefs are more liberal than hers, I guess. She removed me from her blog roll, which I expected. Here is what she has to say about this matter.

Should We Feel Sorry For Narcs? 

guilt_trip

My answer in short is NO.

Lucky Otter differs…..

“I think it’s time we stop bashing narcissists”

God forbids vengeance and we are to avoid repaying evil for evil, but when it comes to narcissists and the wicked in this world, there are many who desire the enabling of evil. Anger in itself is not sinful, it depends on what you do with it. There is such a thing as righteous anger that is used to protect oneself and the innocent.

I wrote Lucky Otter the comment below in warning her. We have a world now where many tell good people they must love the unrepentant wicked and this is one reason why wicked people have been able to hurt so many people. Often the enablers even use this kind of logic telling people they were not loving enough to the narcissist. Every Scapegoat in the world was told these lies, that they were not kind and loving enough to their abusive narcissistic or sociopathic parents. We were told we were not kind enough, not forgiving enough. We were told by cruel narcissists we were mean bitter people even for drawing healthy boundaries.

One thing to consider is how many do excuse evil in this world using situational ethics, or telling the world, that the guy who just murdered a dozen people had a “hard home life”. There is a point where a human being does make the choice for good or evil and in the case of malignant narcs I believe they have seared their consciences making the decisions for evil. Yes there are narcissists who are lower down the spectrum who perhaps could get help or turn to God, but most blogs that write about narcissism make for those allowances.

I am concerned about Lucky Otter’s defenses of narcissists, it has gotten to the point, I am going to have to unlink her blog from this one. It is something that has been troubling me for awhile. I like and care about Lucky Otter but I do not want anyone on this blog led to bad places emotionally or psychologically.

My religious beliefs about evil which are rooted in being a born again Christian, are on a different page from Otter’s. My beliefs about narcissism and what should be done biblically when it comes to the wicked also are completely different. The call to love, forgive [with no repentance from their end] and feel sorry for the “abused little narcs” for me is the last straw. This is asking people to be doormats and abused more by evil. I am going to pray and hope she is shown the truth about wicked people. Her beliefs concern me even for her own sake, in being led to a place where she is to feel sorry for narcs or whom even smakintosh once warned in one of his videos about “Hugging the Vampires.”

Lucky Otter, I can’t hug the vampires, or feel sorry for the narcs. I do not believe God mandates this. I believe many false churches and no I am not pointing at your specific type of church but a lot of them out there are teaching people to endorse, enable, excuse evil. Jesus called the evil VIPERS, he didn’t hold back. He said exactly what they were in the book of Matthew 23:33:

Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?

I wrote this comment on Lucky Otter’s blog:

I disagree with you here. If anything the entire world is wrapped about defending the feelings of the narc. If anything every institution takes up for the narcs as scapegoats get smashed down again and again. I have gotten smashed down for narcs over and over, while no one cared about how I felt. A narc that wants help and wants to change in my book isn’t even a malignant narc, that is someone with fleas or borderline personality disorder or other spiritual problems but not a narc or what I call in Christian spiritual terms. “SEARED” and “REPROBATE”. Show me a narc who has REALLY REPENTED. If they have then they are not a sociopath and most likely not a malignant narcissist. False churches will teach enabling of the evil. Otter, I mean what I say about that, there are many invested in desiring the evil is enabled.

*****

I respect FHPP’s religious views, but I won’t pretend it doesn’t sadden me that my post might have caused a rift in our friendship.

But even friends aren’t always going to agree. I also think some things I said might have been taken out of context. For example, I never encouraged enabling a narcissist or staying with one. I am a strong supporter of No Contact. I also think we aren’t really in disagreement about malignant narcissists who are beyond hope or help.

I just don’t think all the hate on the web helps anyone and it only continues to feed their need for supply. Like a drug addict, attention–whether negative or positive–is their drug of choice.

ETA: 3/5/17.    I’ve since arrived at the conclusion that this blogger uses her religion to shame and judge others, pretends “concern” which is really a form of gaslighting, and has STILL not moved on from the black and white thinking and hatred of anyone with a cluster B disorder.  At the time, I was hurt at what I perceived as betrayal (it was) and was still trying to give this blogger the benefit of the doubt, but now I no longer do.  The friendship ended with this post.  She wasn’t done with me yet.  Shortly after this post, I was mobbed, viciously attacked and smeared by some of her blogger “friends” (really flying monkeys). As a result I was retraumatized and almost took down my own blog.  The implications are clear.   Not all ACON blogs are safe and some are, in fact, run by narcissists.

I feel like I’m a bad friend.

bad_friend

Tonight on a whim I looked up an old Facebook friend I hadn’t talked to since 2012 (we had been close from 2009-2011) and was shocked and very upset to learn that she died this past September of Merkel cell carcinoma. She’d had to have part of her jaw and her lips removed and I even saw her post that first announced her terminal cancer diagnosis. She asked for prayers.

I never knew. I never bothered to check in on her until tonight and felt just awful about not having been there at all for her while she was in so much pain and dying. I left a post on her wall (which is still up) telling her to rest in peace and how sorry I was. What else can you say to a dead friend you abandoned? Sure, she was only a Facebook friend but I still feel like an insensitive heel.

About two years ago, another casual friend, someone I had actually known through work who ran a blog about living in poverty in the United States, and who was known to have suffered from major depression, committed suicide. I hadn’t talked to her in several months, and it was her husband who posted about her death on her wall. I learned this horrible news THE DAY AFTER she killed herself. All I could do was offer some kind words to her bereaved husband, who had loved her very much and was understandably devastated. I felt ashamed at not having talked to this woman during the months prior to her suicide and was almost too embarrassed to say anything to her husband.

I always seem to find out bad news about friends and people I used to know on Facebook, which is another reason I don’t like Facebook too much.

But neither of these things are as terrible as the way I treated a close friend of mine from back in the 1980s. Robert was gay and he was one of my best friends for several years. We used to have a blast together, and were even roommates for awhile. I remember planning his 21st birthday party and how much fun it turned out to be (and I hate parties!)

But Robert was also promiscuous and brought strange men home while we were roommates. He also developed schizophrenia around this time, and due to both his bringing men I didn’t know to the apartment and his declining mental condition, I had no other choice but to move out. We continued to remain in touch occasionally even after I married, but over time, as friendships do when lives go in different directions, we lost contact and stopped speaking.

betrayal

Just after my son was born in 1991, I received a phone call from Robert’s sister. She told me Robert was in the hospital and very close to death. He had AIDS and had lost his vision and his mind, and was no longer able to feed himself and had to be cared for like an infant. It occurred to me he probably already had AIDS during the time I knew him. I was shocked at the news and promised to come visit him in the hospital, but I never did. In all honesty, I was afraid to see him like that and chickened out, even though I had intended to go.

He died two weeks later. His sister called again and invited me to the funeral. Again, I didn’t attend because of the guilt I felt over having abandoned him and never visited him in the hospital.

I realized later how selfish this was of me, only caring about my own needs and feeling like seeing him like that would be too upsetting and just plain weird. My friend needed me when he was dying and I let him down. I never forgave myself for that and still pray for God to forgive me for my selfishness. I’m sure He has, but I never really forgave myself.

That’s why I feel like I’m a terrible friend and maybe don’t deserve to have any.