My mental illness makes me feel abandoned by old friends. I have friends, I guess, but when I see them having fun without me, I feel so hurt. I have to believe it’s nothing personal, but I understand it’s hard to be around someone who isn’t always smiling, talking or having a few cocktails.
My mental illness tells me that they don’t want to be my friend anymore. My mind tells me I am worthless of friendship. That the people they hang out with are probably more fun, spontaneous and energetic. Maybe those people are better friends. Maybe those people don’t cancel plans or feel anxious all the time. Maybe those people don’t let their worries get to them.
Smiling faces having fun. Old friends living the life that I should be living, but my mental illness tells me I can’t handle that. Some days are spent in bed or trying to get through my pain or trying to muster up the energy to put on a smile. Maybe the people my friends are with don’t have any of those struggles.
It’s all those maybes that stick in my head when I see pictures of my friends having fun with new people. When I say ,”We need to get together soon”, and it just never happens. When I find myself sitting alone on my couch, looking at their smiling faces and wondering why I had to be the one with the depression and anxiety.
My mental illness makes me feel like the third wheel, the weirdo, the unloved and the unaccepted.
The strong person way deep inside says that it’s not the case. They still like me, they are just living their own lives. My mental illness says that I am broken and not worth their time. That I am less than or no fun. That I am too sick and pathetic to deserve friends. My mental illness tells me that I brought this on myself.
When this happens, I have to force myself to believe that I am worth it. I have to make myself think I am lovable. I have to tell myself that it’s about me because if I don’t, I won’t make it through and I won’t let my mental illness win.