Losing a friend or partner, even temporarily like in the case of a disagreement, can be extremely hard on people living with Social Anxiety and other mental illnesses like Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder.
I am no expert in how to get people to stick around. Clearly, I am terrible at that. But I do consider myself a little bit of an expert in how to deal with the aftermath, because this situation just keeps happening to me over and over again, at least once or twice a year. And every time, I am emotionally destroyed, but every time I somehow get back up again. At first, it seemed to me like this was an accident and I only started to feel better because something good randomly happened to me. But at this point I think it’s safe to say that I am pretty resilient.
I’m sort of going through one of those situations right now, and it occurred to me that although I am basically a ball of constant anxiety and I’m a lot lonelier than I was before, I am actually doing kind of okay. Not great, but okay. I’m doing better at this, and I’m also doing better at actually resolving conflicts. So it prompted me to take a closer look at my habits to figure out what was working and what wasn’t, and I thought I’d share some of what I’ve learned with you.
Try to see the bigger picture
It can be hard to give someone space because you don’t know how you’re going to cope without them for all that time, or you might fear that this will only make the situation worse and they will forget about you and move on. But if you take a look at the bigger picture, a couple of months apart is nothing in comparison to the years you could be friends in the future (or have been in the past). This is also helpful when someone has hurt you – you may initially feel like the only option you have is to end your relationship with that person, but in looking at the bigger picture you might find that it’s actually better for you to just spend some time apart or talk things out with each other. Continue reading
With a little over a year having passed since my first significant relationship ended, I feel as though this is a good time to reflect back on it.
It was young love – filled with all of the passion and awkwardness it entails.
He was a year my senior, with the confidence and class of Cary Grant. He was effortlessly intelligent and brilliantly artistic. In my eyes, he was the closest man you could find to perfection and I fell so incredibly hard. Of course, when he began to take an interest in me, it was as though I was living in a dream.
Our time together was wonderful. We adventured in graveyards and on railways tracks, exchanged love letters for lockets, carved pumpkins, and watched silent movies. We adored each other so greatly. So when he suddenly called it quits, I was heartbroken. He told me: “I fell out of love as quickly as I fell in it.”
If you ask anybody who knows me what my feelings are towards Christmas, they will probably tell you that I despise the whole holiday season. Some, including myself, have used the term ‘Grinch’ to describe me, and despite not being green or living in a mountain, I won’t deny this, but I would like to set some things straight.
I do not hate joy or spending time with loved ones, I am present at most gatherings that have an open bar, and I have been known to make the occasional child or senior smile. Nor am I being spiteful because I am single and wish to partake in all the ‘coupley’ activities that run rampant during the holidays. I am spiteful for other reasons; I am perfectly comfortable drinking eggnog with my roommate and dog (as long as there is rum in mine), I would rather make a gingerbread house by myself because then I wouldn’t have to share, and, last time I checked, you didn’t have to be nauseating to be capable of ordering a peppermint latte. Did I say nauseating? Oops. I meant in love. Darn you, autocorrect!
Okay, okay. I know what you’re thinking: How is someone who is clearly so hilarious and sociable a hater of the holiday season? I wouldn’t call myself a hater, per say. I am not one of those people who finds it enjoyable to hate things – trust me, I find it exhausting. I prefer to describe my stance as someone who is an avoider of things that I associate with difficult memories. Suffice it to say, I avoid a lot of things and I have gotten quite exceptional at it. This is a skill that, I would like to add, has proven useful to me in numerous other facets of my life, including but not limited to: dating, eye contact with professors, and dodgeball. Continue reading