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No. 380246
>>380245 >I have dealt with people who clearly needed a psychologist, and needed me to act as one, but I couldn't tell them to find one, out of their insisting that psychiatrists = brainwashers.
This is a perfect description of the most toxic friendship I've ever had. She needed a psychiatrist somethign awful, but she was afraid that the drugs they would give her would change her and make her worse to be around. (Unfortunately we HAD kind of seen this happen with another friend whose meds made him lose all sense of tact, so she did kind of have a reason to be cautious, which just made it worse.) So instead of actual psych medicine, she self-medicated with ecstasy and cough syrup. She'd let me know about it, all the ways she'd been hurting herself, all her feelings, all of her screwed up perspectives on life and people she knew. I'd stay up talking to her well into the night on school days because I was afraid she'd tie up a noose, and some days I never got sleep at all. At one point, things at her home got bad, and she came to live in my spare bedroom for a couple weeks while things blew over. And she was just... the most ungrateful little shit while she was there, she hardly ever spoke with anyone else in my house and did not thank my parents once for opening up their home to her. And we still had those 8 hour sessions where she'd talk about her feelings and I'd try to calm her down until the sun came up, and I had to do it on the fucking computer because she would not talk to me face to face and locked her door. I understood that she probably needed a barrier, that she wasn't comfortable saying these things out loud and was probably scared to. I got that. She was one of my oldest friends, and I could empathize with the shame and fear of looking into someone's eyes and telling them all about their demons.
But it wore me out, right to the bone. I was just a kid and I didn't know what to do but try to keep her treading water. The worry and lost sleep literally made me sick. It was pretty much every night we'd talk like that and we talked about nothing else after a while, and after she left my house and ceased talking to me for a while (I still don't know why) I realised we hadn't really been friends for a long time. I'd just been a human shaped wall she'd been rehashing the story of her life to for maybe two years. I'd never felt so used and betrayed, and I hated that I felt that way because I was her friend and she was mentally ill and it wasn't her fault and she needed someone and maybe eventually things would get better. When she finally came back to me and tried to start up the therapy sessions again, I basically told her to fuck off and come back when she was willing to treat me as a friend instead of a therapist again.
I haven't heard from her since.
Now that I think about it, that's around when I started to greatly prefer being in groups and fear being one-on-one with another person. I used to have the patience of a god for listening to others' issues and now I feel vaguely annoyed when they come to me. I just can't do it anymore. I still don't want to blame or resent her for these things either, and I don't want to place the blame for my personal problems on someone else, which is the worst part, because I know that this experience did cause damage and I do legitimately feel like she stole something from me that will take a very long time to get back, if I ever manage to. And I've always been a private person but I just do not want to do this to someone else, I do not ever want to take advantage of someone else and leech off them like my friend did, and so I just do not tell people anything anymore.
That's my story, I guess.
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