Jun 23, 2006

One is silver and the other gold

Old friends, they will always be there. I seemed to have let many of my friends go the last several years. I avoid them when I can and hide in my little shell at home, but they still keep knocking and invading my life. It is not that I don't want these friends, I just don't have the energy to be friends with them all right now. I feel drained all the time and going out with people that I have a hard time talking to just wipes me out for days. I hate forcing conversation and feeling so out of place, but that is how I feel right now among these people who knew me when I was so much stronger.

On the other hand, I have made several new friends this year, people who know very little about my past. These people see me as fun, talkative and energetic. Why can't I portray that to my old friends? I think it is because these people are completely new. I know nothing about them and they know very little about me. We tread lightly, conversation is never to deep or invading. I don't need to explain to the new friends why I have been out of touch for awhile. I don't feel guilt when I'm around my new friends either. I have never avoided or lied to them so that I could stay home in my own peace.

I occassionally reach out to one of the friends of days past and try to make amends. No one ever seems to be upset, just glad to see me. It puts my guilt slightly at ease. I should do this more, but I am terrified of overextending myself again and spiraling back down to my own personal hell at home on the couch.

"Make new friends, but keep the old..." If I were only 10 again, when the concept seemed as simple as the words we sang around the campfire.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You'll be okay. I happened upon this site looking for thoughtful writers. I found one here. I have vet friends who have PTSD. One day at a time is all I can say and look to the people that look forward to seeing you everyday. they are there. Hope you recover, because you can, but it will take time.
Joe
www.citizenhunter.com