During my marriage to Shawn I saw my own personal friendships relegated to the couple time a year, "We should get together more often" conversations.
Because, really, how could you look your friends in the eye and either 1) put on a smiling face and lie about what your life is really like or 2) spill your guts and tell them how much your husband drinks and how scared you are for your life and his?
It robs your soul to try to put on the happy face with anyone other than acquaintances your true deep friends would say, "What are you doing? You have to get OUT!" if you told them your reality.
So Shawn's friends were also my friends. Ryan, Rob and Jason.
I liked them. We all hung out in the bike shop that adjoined our home for many, many hours each week and listened to music. We all resided in the bicycling world and talked bikes. They shared my same dark sense of humor and dry wit.
Our house was the "hang-out place" for the guys and I was "one of the guys".
Sure they were Shawn's drinking buddies and I never joined them on their "real" bike rides but that was okay because I had the children to care for and the behind the scenes work of the business to keep me busy.
Yet their presence in my home met my social needs and kept me from isolation.
Not surprisingly, when Shawn and I divorced they allied themselves with him.
This was logical, expected, and not hurtful. They weren't unkind to me - they just simply disappeared from my life.
For the sake of their friend they had to believe his stories that I had "broken up the marriage" and "left Shawn for someone else".
Perhaps the reason why none of this bothered me at the time was because I thought,
"They know the truth. They've seen how Shawn treats me. They know how much he drinks. I told them how he goes inside and sneaks extra shots when they are hanging out getting drunk. I told them he was suicidal. They've seen how much I gave to this marriage and this business. They KNOW me. They are my friends. They know who I really am."
When Shawn died I needed them.
I needed to grieve with them.
And they haven't been there for me.
I kept believing they would reach out to me and comfort me.
I feel embarrassed that I need this. And yet it feels to me like they are the only ones who might understand...how he could be so sick and yet still be someone with whom you wanted to spend time.
And they're not there.
They avoided me at the funeral.
The one time I saw Jason he was at work and he just maintained polite, distant, conversation.
They've never asked how I am doing. They've never asked how the kids are doing.
They watched our children growing from the time they were infants. These are their good friend's kids who have been left without a father. Kids who might appreciate someone who knew their father well.
I was asked, a few months ago, by Shawn's Dad to be part of the group he was gathering to come up with ideas for a memorial for Shawn in Fort Collins - something artistic and bike related that would make sure that Shawn wasn't forgotten.
The others in this group: Rob, Ryan, Jason and a few others from that time in my life.
There have been a number of "Reply to All" emails sent as ideas have been thrown around.
I participated in the ideas and talk of logistics for getting the memorial placed.
And every time I see these names on the email list it feels like a punch in the gut.
I guess it is a good thing because it made me realize how hurt I was feeling.
I sat on this situation and feeling for quite awhile. I didn't tell R. or my Mom or anyone else that I was participating in a memorial plan for Shawn. Probably because they might have questioned if it was healthy for me and my healing.
But I did finally bring it up with my therapist who pointed out, "It seems more like it is a memorial for them. Is this something you need for your own healing?".
And the answer is, "no". I don't need it for my healing.
I participated in the planning in an effort to be included in the group again. It was an invitation for one of them to email me privately to see how I was doing. It was a way of trying to show, "I DID care about Shawn. I do remember him." It was my way of asking, "Do you really think it was my fault?".
Because they haven't reached out to me I am left guessing the reasons why.
Do they believe his suicide was caused by me ending our marriage? Did they really believe all the things he told them about how I was making his life hell after the divorce? Couldn't they see that his anger was not about me or anything I did or didn't do?
Have they blocked out the time I called them asking for help because Shawn had disappeared into the mountains threatening suicide? Or do they feel guilty that they didn't take it seriously and are now struggling through their own grief and questioning of what they could have done done differently? (PS - there was nothing you could have done, guys).
Do they not realize that I crave a chance to talk to them - to be real with them?
Were they ever really my friends?
These questions are, of course, unanswerable right now.
I could reach out to them, I suppose. I could ask them how they are doing with their own grieving. I'm sure I have selfishly ignored how hard it must be to have a best friend commit suicide.
4 comments:
Ah, now on this topic, I can only share my own experiences... but I have a suspicion that they might relate to yours.
My husband had a large and close group of male friends. All of them loved me and our daughters too. After my husband killed himself, none of these boys could bring themselves to talk about it. Many of them would avoid me and if we bumped into each other, they would be jittery and could not bring themselves to mention his name. So I always made sure I did, whether it made them uncomfortable or not.
I invited a few of the close ones around for a drink, and sat them down and explained all I knew about my husband's depression and suicide as he had asked me to. They drank in silence and shifted in their seats.
I put it down to them being men. Sorry to say this, but they just don't handle speaking about emotions like women do. Not that many of my women friends were much better, but some were.
There have been about three of his friends who have since read my book. Even this was difficult for them. They bought it, and afterwards told me that it sat there haunting them, as they couldn't deal with reading it. Once they did however, they all got back to me with extremely long and personal emails, finally spilling out all of their emotions and grief and thanking me for sharing and for everything else I had done for him, how I had loved him.
I came to the conclusion, that it had nothing to do with them thinking that I was possibly to blame, or anything so sinister, it was simply that they were unable to deal with the suicide themselves, AT ALL. Let alone look me in the eye or show any emotion. It was only after a year or two that they could start to decipher it. And let me tell you that all of their messages brought tears to my eyes. They were grieving so much, questioning so much and hurting so much. I never knew.
Don't make it about you. It's probably not. People do not know how to handle this. How to grieve. Some only begin a few years down the line.
I hope this rambling of my own experiences helps you a little.
Now, almost six years later, there are many of his close friends that I can sit down and reminisce with. I know you need them now, but they probably aren't yet able.
And on a similar subject, neither are his parents. They can't talk about it either. x
I mean my husband's parents :)
This is a hard one. I agree with Leila, it could just be men being men and not being comfortable with feelings. I also hear words from Al-anon in my head saying they can't read your mind. If you need them, email them. Maybe just to say hi, maybe just to say hey if you want to see the kids you are more than welcome to, etc. Sometimes you have to be the one to initiate it.
However, if it is too painful for you or you don't feel it will help you in any way, distance yourself. Take care of you so you can take care of the kids.
I agree with Leila...people just want to avoid being uncomfortable, saying the wrong thing, or making others uncomfortable. Although suicide makes it immensely more difficult, I've seen it happen with anyone who's had someone close to them die. I've even been guilty of it in the past. It's hard for most people to be completely vulnerable, and share their pain...if they feel that they would put either themselves, or someone else in the position of being vulnerable (bringing up someone's deepest life pain in the dairy section of the grocery store isn't what they had planned when they ran to the grocery store), they will avoid it at all costs. I'm so sorry that the isolation that was caused by his illness, has now left you to grieve in isolation as well. <3
It's something I craved for a long time after Ryan died...the feeling of wanting to reminisce about anything of the shared reality of his life...BUT, as with my personal experience, the truth is that their reality of Shawn wasn't the same as yours. I was on the receiving end of aggression with my brother as well, and was the only person who was scared of him on a regular basis...that's a very different experience of these troubled souls than that of their friends...
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