Why Don’t I Have Friends Like Susan?

Why Don’t I Have Friends Like Susan?

Kristyn Meyer is on a journey to make herself the best human that she can be. These posts are a reflection of that. She welcomes your support via reading and through commissioned affiliate links within her posts! To stay up to date on all of her shenanigans, please subscribe to her email list! (psst…there’s a free gift involved)

I wrote this one night in an attempt to alleviate my anxiety and intense feelings. After I wrote it, I decided to publish it as a blog post. This is messy and vulnerable and it makes me feel very childish. However, these are situations we all go through. And we all have to wade through them. So I decided to share my experience with all of you.

Right now, I sit in my bed. I can’t decide if I’m angry, anxious, mad, or just irritated. Obviously, I’m some form of not happy.

Additionally, I can’t pinpoint why these emotions are here. Is it because of the long and difficult week I have had with my kids? Is it because my husband hurt his back and I have had to take over more parenting and house duties? Perhaps I’m sad because I am starting to suspect I am losing someone that has meant a great deal to me for many years now.

However, I can’t get the thoughts to go away.

When I have turned to exercise, I am calmer for a short period of time. Taking the night off and having a girls night with my daughter helped, but wasn’t the ultimate fix. Crying it out to my husband took the edge off, but made me realize that my emotions are the result of a lot of things that are just hitting all at once.

Why do my kids like to fight so much?

I feel like I am failing as a mother when I am constantly yelling at them. But several times an hour they are screaming and crying because this one took a toy from that one. Or because this one hit that one. I feel that their core memories from their childhood are going to be of me going psycho because I can’t handle one more argument.

It brings up unpleasant memories for me. I remember my oldest constantly comparing me to other moms. I’m sure this isn’t uncommon in the least but hurts nonetheless. So many times I would hear about how these friends’ parents would let their son do this, or that, or another thing. At times he would tell me that I wasn’t “motherly” enough, which stabbed me in the heart more than anything else that he said to me.

So often I worry that I am not being motherly enough to the younger two. And what is scarier is that I truly don’t know what to do to be more motherly. I hug, I kiss, I tell them I love them. At night they climb into bed with me to snuggle. We go on special mommy/child dates. We talk and I explain things at their level when they don’t understand or are frustrated. When I bake, I include them. I find special projects to do with them that I know they will like. We have park days. I try to find experiences for them to have instead of material things.

I don’t know what more to do. And that’s something that scares me most. How can I fix a problem if I truly can’t think of anything more to do to better the situation? That screams shitty mother more than anything to me.

I hate it when my husband hurts his back.

Often, when we are planning home projects or outings, I think about if there could be ramifications to his back as a result of doing whatever it is that we plan to do. More often than not he is fine. But randomly something will cause an issue. I feel horrible for him to be in that pain, but I also feel selfish too. When it happens, a lot stops in its tracks. Right now we are piecing the basement back together (it recently flooded) and that has come to a halt. He can’t help much with the kids or the house cleaning because he’s in too much pain. I can’t do anything to help him. I feel helpless, and I also feel overwhelmed. Stress is at the forefront as well because we just planned a trip, to take place in the next few weeks, and I don’t know if he will be in an appropriate physical shape to go.

I keep getting angry at myself for being stressed or upset about it because things could be so much worse. At least he will be fine. His back pain is not terminal. He won’t be leaving us alone on this earth as a result. It is a mild inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.

Why can’t my brain tell itself that? Why does it instead have to circle selfish thoughts and anxieties around like a cyclone? What kind of a person am I to get upset over such things? Why do I have to be a shitty human?

I don’t understand why I don’t have friends.

That’s dramatic, I do have friends. But the idea in my head of the kind of friend I want doesn’t seem to exist in this world. Or at least, it doesn’t exist for me.

When I was younger, my mom had a circle of friends that resembled backup moms. If she wasn’t available, one of them was. I remember having a school play that she couldn’t make and she called her friend Susan to stand in so I would have a person in the audience for me. I can’t find a way to have that in my life. Why don’t I have friends like Susan? Or like a Kelli? Or an Alison? Those were other backup mom’s that were also a staple of my childhood.

Every time I think I’m close to having someone like that for myself and for my kids, it seems to just go away.

A few years ago a childhood friend suggested a joint birthday party for the two of us, as our birthdays are only a day apart. I invited many people, bought a new dress and got excited about the occasion. One friend of mine showed up. Just one. The other birthday girl had several, including a few of her family members. None of my family came, just one friend. I felt the lowest of the low.

A few years ago when we were considering selling our house, we talked about moving to a nearby subdivision. I love the quietness of our home and the rural setting, but I was excited to be in that area, as there are a lot of families and kids. In my mind, it would be much easier to find long-lasting mom friends in an area like that. We didn’t end up moving, but I decided to take the same approach at my daughter’s school. The school year was cut short, but my efforts paid off. Somewhat. I’m pretty tight with the secretaries. Other parents? Not so much.

Do I have a friend defect? Am I a stage 5 clinger like in Wedding Crashers? What is it that causes me to not have quality friendships as my mom did? Am I that shitty of a friend? Am I a creep?

This is me, sitting in my feelings. Trying to sort it all out. I know that working through it is what will lead to higher self-esteem later on. If I compress it and push it away, it will just bubble back up later on.

If I were to listen to all of these things coming from another person, I would have so much to say to them. But because it’s me, I ignore all common sense and wallow in self-pity and annoyance.

If I was pretending that I was the other person, I would inform myself:

1. You are not shitty at any of those things. These are isolated incidences. Bigger scale looks much different, and you know that.
2. It’s okay to be selfish at times. It doesn’t need to be often or for a long while, but it’s natural to want things for yourself. Being selfish and also feeling grateful can happen. It doesn’t make you a bad person.
3. Life is much different from your childhood. In some situations, it is like night and day. Many people feel the same as you do about it being hard to find friends. It’s not a reflection on you as an individual. The pictures you see online and even in person is what is referred to as the “highlight reel”. Nobody has a perfect life all the time. Everyone has their great moments and their crappy moments. At some point in everyone’s life, they will be a person with one friend at their birthday party. It’s not just you.

Right now, will saying these statements to myself do much? It will help some, but won’t erase the current emotions. But it is still crucial to getting the ball rolling on fixing the issues at hand. What will ultimately calm those feelings is reflection, rest, prayer, gratitude, and time. Working through it all will bring me to a more positive place. But to get there I have to wade through some uncomfortable and messy waters. It will be worth it in the end, and I need to approach it like I would if I were talking to someone else. I am no different than others that I care about. I deserve the same kind of pep talks, conversations, and self-recognition.

We are always harder on ourselves than we are to others. And we need to afford the same grace that we would otherwise express to our own individual selves. We are worth it.