Now this is the story all about how, my life got flipped, turned upside down, and I’d like to take a minute just sit right there... something that has to do with soup and rhymes with air...
Okay that didn’t make sense.
I have this friend. She’s going through something that is pretty rough, and since I’ve never gone through said trial before, the only thing I really could do for her was just be a listening ear and good friend. She would call often to vent about how miserable she felt. I got several text messages during the day from her, too. I felt so bad for her, mostly because I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to give her any relief. Her facebook page and blog started to see a lot of her ranting as well. I’m not judging, we all have that inner desire to scream at the top of our lungs that something is wrong and we need some comforting words from other people. Over the course of a few weeks, things stayed the same. I bought a half dozen of cupcakes from a famous little bakery in town after she begged for baked goods, and brought them over to her along with a couple books.
I know she appreciated it- but, to be honest, she showed her appreciation in a really weird and unorthodox way (like not at all).
Her texts were getting more and more consistent... and I found myself staying up late because the texting wasn’t coming to an end. She started asking for small favors, which was no big deal- I was more than happy to help out. The actual process of dialing my number and calling me (totally old school) started happening more, and during the day. I work full time, and I am not supposed to be on my phone. I check it here and there, and I’d listen to the three or four messages she’d leave, but I couldn’t really call her back. This went on for a little while longer, and then I started getting texts in the middle of the night. It was nothing but complaint after complaint. I was starting to lose my patience. I struggled to find words to reply after she had mentioned so many times how badly she “just wants to die”. After my patience had significantly worn off, the frustrations started to build. I hate to admit it, but I was really getting irritated. It was obvious that nothing I could offer to her was of any relief or help, and not one of the multitudes of advice from myself and others were of any value to her, she just wanted to complain. I was exhausted both mentally and physically from trying to pretend that her phrases of “wanting to die” didn’t sting, and staying up so late trying to comfort her.
I also hate to admit that I started screening my calls. I normally do, but I when I say screening my calls, I really mean that I started ignoring hers. I changed the settings on my iphone so that I could partially see her texts without having to open them to read them (iphone messaging will show the other person when the message is read, therefore she’d know if I were purposely not responding). It’s sad that went I through all this effort to ignore her. I would eventually get back to her, but it was on my own time frame. One night, i got a text around 8:30pm asking if I could make her some enchiladas. I love cooking, but not at 8:30pm and not when I feel like I’m at someone's beck and call. I was starting to feel abused. I wanted to help her because I knew what she was going through was rather tremendous and unknown to her, and probably pretty scary. I seeked some distance. I needed some time to myself, and some time away from my phone. During the evenings, I would turn my phone to silent and leave it in the bedroom- out of sight, out of mind. It was beautiful. Except for she started to notice. I told her I was just busy and had some other things I had to do. She seemed to understand; she’s good that way.
As nice as getting some space was, every single thing that she did kept bugging me. Every post on her blog, every email, every text... it all kept bothering me and irritating me even more. One day at work I read an email from her that really upset me, and I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. Something had to be done. Something somewhere, needed to change. I started with myself. I went to facebook and removed her from my news feed. It helped a lot, but every little thing she did was still like refueling a fire.
I sat down with Warren and asked him if he could help me find some solace. I don’t give him a lot of credit, but when he really wants to, he can be pretty admirable. He told me to keep trying to be her friend. And to maybe just put myself in her shoes. It kind of dawned on me a little. We’re not so different, her and I. I’m sure she was feeling very lonely. She’s not the first person to be going through this particular trial, but having people put her down because she was openly struggling with it, I’m sure was rather discouraging. Having people telling you that you aren’t dealing with your emotions the right way is so un-Christlike; He would never cast that type of judgement on anyone, but rather He would comfort them. I started to feel empathetic towards her. I knew exactly how she was feeling. After I was scorned for being sad that my mom died, I felt even worse. No one deserves to be judged that way, nor should they ever have to justify their feelings. So, I said a little prayer... and immediately the word “service” came into my head. As much as doing a service to this friend would be more like sacrificing a sheep (going a little old testament style) by this point, I knew it needed to be done. I answered my phone again and starting the whole process of listening to her complain over again.
A couple weeks earlier I tried this amazing recipe I found on Pinterest for Panera Broccoli Cheese Soup. It is divine. It definitely makes enough for four people, and rather than have leftovers- I thought I’d make it and share with them. This was back when I got home from work around 5:30-5:45pm. I had to quickly stop at the store to get the broccoli. So I didn’t start on the soup until close to 6pm. I told her that it would take a little while, and I estimated at least not until 7:30pm. I started working on it, and everything went smoothly. I was panicked though, because I didn’t want to let them down and make any mistakes, nor did I want it to take too long. Around 7:15 she calls asking when it was going to be done. I told her that it only had maybe 10-15 more minutes to simmer. She said okay... but you could hear the exasperation in her tone on the other end. Clearly they were hungry and didn’t want to wait any longer. I checked it once more, and the broccoli hadn’t cooked all the way through, so I turned up the heat and tried to get it to cook faster. All while getting texts from ‘friend’ wondering where dinner was.
She finally ended up telling me that if it was going to take much longer, she was just going to run out and get them something else. I was kind of appalled at her words. Here I was trying to do something nice for her, gave her plenty of warning that I couldn’t snap my fingers and have it ready, and she was being uber demanding. I turned off the heat, and said it was ready and that I’d put it in tupperware and bring it over, but got no response. I put some rolls in little baggies and packaged it all up, and called to make sure it was ok that I brought it over since she wasn’t responding. After waiting a few minutes, Warren decided that we were going to eat since it was getting close to 8pm. After we finished, Warren called the husband after my desperate attempts at calling ‘friend’. I should have just brought it over, but I didn’t want to carry hot soup all the way over and have them not be home because they decided to go grab something to eat. All those relatable feelings of inadequacy I had towards her were starting to smoulder away as my frustrations and irritations were flooding back to me. I thought for a second, that steam was really coming out of my ears. Neither one of them picked up the phone. For two people who have had their phones glued to them this whole time, I was beyond ticked that I was now being the ignored one. My stubborness decided to come through, and there was no way at this point, I was going to trouble myself by bringing it over anymore, so I put it all in the fridge and started the laundry. A whole hour went by, when finally ‘husband’ texted Warren (not me) a two word text: “don’t bother”.
I literally felt my heart flatline. Warren was even ticked off. He finally told me, “you don’t have to be friends with her anymore”. I started to cry, I’m ashamed to admit. Why was I even bothering to sacrifice my time and effort on a work night for two people who are so selfish and only use friendships to help better themselves? I had my first melt down in a long while. All the emotions I had been forcing away, how exhausted I was from trying so hard, all wrapped up inside the giant blanket of guilt I had from being sad that my mom was gone and not here to help me, all came crashing down at once. I fell to the floor and just bawled my eyes out. No more. They can go live their lives however they want, and slime all over whoever they wanted. But not me.
We ended up having a bit of a falling out... and I told her to that she wasn't the first pregnant person on the planet. I don't think this friendship was very uplifting. More like toxic.
Since then, we have apologized and talked things through. But she still continues to be a bit of a thorn in my side. I still have her blocked from facebook, and make every attempt to ignore her calls and texts, and return them later. If there were a word to remotely come close to how I act around her how, it would be chordial.
What did I learn from this? A lot, actually. First, that charity never faileth. The service part made me feel better and I knew it was the right thing to do. It also showed me to not offer anything to spoiled brats because it wont be good enough for them anyways. So that's my word of advice. Stay away from soup nazi's.
Okay that didn’t make sense.
I have this friend. She’s going through something that is pretty rough, and since I’ve never gone through said trial before, the only thing I really could do for her was just be a listening ear and good friend. She would call often to vent about how miserable she felt. I got several text messages during the day from her, too. I felt so bad for her, mostly because I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to give her any relief. Her facebook page and blog started to see a lot of her ranting as well. I’m not judging, we all have that inner desire to scream at the top of our lungs that something is wrong and we need some comforting words from other people. Over the course of a few weeks, things stayed the same. I bought a half dozen of cupcakes from a famous little bakery in town after she begged for baked goods, and brought them over to her along with a couple books.
I know she appreciated it- but, to be honest, she showed her appreciation in a really weird and unorthodox way (like not at all).
Her texts were getting more and more consistent... and I found myself staying up late because the texting wasn’t coming to an end. She started asking for small favors, which was no big deal- I was more than happy to help out. The actual process of dialing my number and calling me (totally old school) started happening more, and during the day. I work full time, and I am not supposed to be on my phone. I check it here and there, and I’d listen to the three or four messages she’d leave, but I couldn’t really call her back. This went on for a little while longer, and then I started getting texts in the middle of the night. It was nothing but complaint after complaint. I was starting to lose my patience. I struggled to find words to reply after she had mentioned so many times how badly she “just wants to die”. After my patience had significantly worn off, the frustrations started to build. I hate to admit it, but I was really getting irritated. It was obvious that nothing I could offer to her was of any relief or help, and not one of the multitudes of advice from myself and others were of any value to her, she just wanted to complain. I was exhausted both mentally and physically from trying to pretend that her phrases of “wanting to die” didn’t sting, and staying up so late trying to comfort her.
I also hate to admit that I started screening my calls. I normally do, but I when I say screening my calls, I really mean that I started ignoring hers. I changed the settings on my iphone so that I could partially see her texts without having to open them to read them (iphone messaging will show the other person when the message is read, therefore she’d know if I were purposely not responding). It’s sad that went I through all this effort to ignore her. I would eventually get back to her, but it was on my own time frame. One night, i got a text around 8:30pm asking if I could make her some enchiladas. I love cooking, but not at 8:30pm and not when I feel like I’m at someone's beck and call. I was starting to feel abused. I wanted to help her because I knew what she was going through was rather tremendous and unknown to her, and probably pretty scary. I seeked some distance. I needed some time to myself, and some time away from my phone. During the evenings, I would turn my phone to silent and leave it in the bedroom- out of sight, out of mind. It was beautiful. Except for she started to notice. I told her I was just busy and had some other things I had to do. She seemed to understand; she’s good that way.
As nice as getting some space was, every single thing that she did kept bugging me. Every post on her blog, every email, every text... it all kept bothering me and irritating me even more. One day at work I read an email from her that really upset me, and I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. Something had to be done. Something somewhere, needed to change. I started with myself. I went to facebook and removed her from my news feed. It helped a lot, but every little thing she did was still like refueling a fire.
I sat down with Warren and asked him if he could help me find some solace. I don’t give him a lot of credit, but when he really wants to, he can be pretty admirable. He told me to keep trying to be her friend. And to maybe just put myself in her shoes. It kind of dawned on me a little. We’re not so different, her and I. I’m sure she was feeling very lonely. She’s not the first person to be going through this particular trial, but having people put her down because she was openly struggling with it, I’m sure was rather discouraging. Having people telling you that you aren’t dealing with your emotions the right way is so un-Christlike; He would never cast that type of judgement on anyone, but rather He would comfort them. I started to feel empathetic towards her. I knew exactly how she was feeling. After I was scorned for being sad that my mom died, I felt even worse. No one deserves to be judged that way, nor should they ever have to justify their feelings. So, I said a little prayer... and immediately the word “service” came into my head. As much as doing a service to this friend would be more like sacrificing a sheep (going a little old testament style) by this point, I knew it needed to be done. I answered my phone again and starting the whole process of listening to her complain over again.
A couple weeks earlier I tried this amazing recipe I found on Pinterest for Panera Broccoli Cheese Soup. It is divine. It definitely makes enough for four people, and rather than have leftovers- I thought I’d make it and share with them. This was back when I got home from work around 5:30-5:45pm. I had to quickly stop at the store to get the broccoli. So I didn’t start on the soup until close to 6pm. I told her that it would take a little while, and I estimated at least not until 7:30pm. I started working on it, and everything went smoothly. I was panicked though, because I didn’t want to let them down and make any mistakes, nor did I want it to take too long. Around 7:15 she calls asking when it was going to be done. I told her that it only had maybe 10-15 more minutes to simmer. She said okay... but you could hear the exasperation in her tone on the other end. Clearly they were hungry and didn’t want to wait any longer. I checked it once more, and the broccoli hadn’t cooked all the way through, so I turned up the heat and tried to get it to cook faster. All while getting texts from ‘friend’ wondering where dinner was.
She finally ended up telling me that if it was going to take much longer, she was just going to run out and get them something else. I was kind of appalled at her words. Here I was trying to do something nice for her, gave her plenty of warning that I couldn’t snap my fingers and have it ready, and she was being uber demanding. I turned off the heat, and said it was ready and that I’d put it in tupperware and bring it over, but got no response. I put some rolls in little baggies and packaged it all up, and called to make sure it was ok that I brought it over since she wasn’t responding. After waiting a few minutes, Warren decided that we were going to eat since it was getting close to 8pm. After we finished, Warren called the husband after my desperate attempts at calling ‘friend’. I should have just brought it over, but I didn’t want to carry hot soup all the way over and have them not be home because they decided to go grab something to eat. All those relatable feelings of inadequacy I had towards her were starting to smoulder away as my frustrations and irritations were flooding back to me. I thought for a second, that steam was really coming out of my ears. Neither one of them picked up the phone. For two people who have had their phones glued to them this whole time, I was beyond ticked that I was now being the ignored one. My stubborness decided to come through, and there was no way at this point, I was going to trouble myself by bringing it over anymore, so I put it all in the fridge and started the laundry. A whole hour went by, when finally ‘husband’ texted Warren (not me) a two word text: “don’t bother”.
I literally felt my heart flatline. Warren was even ticked off. He finally told me, “you don’t have to be friends with her anymore”. I started to cry, I’m ashamed to admit. Why was I even bothering to sacrifice my time and effort on a work night for two people who are so selfish and only use friendships to help better themselves? I had my first melt down in a long while. All the emotions I had been forcing away, how exhausted I was from trying so hard, all wrapped up inside the giant blanket of guilt I had from being sad that my mom was gone and not here to help me, all came crashing down at once. I fell to the floor and just bawled my eyes out. No more. They can go live their lives however they want, and slime all over whoever they wanted. But not me.
We ended up having a bit of a falling out... and I told her to that she wasn't the first pregnant person on the planet. I don't think this friendship was very uplifting. More like toxic.
Since then, we have apologized and talked things through. But she still continues to be a bit of a thorn in my side. I still have her blocked from facebook, and make every attempt to ignore her calls and texts, and return them later. If there were a word to remotely come close to how I act around her how, it would be chordial.
What did I learn from this? A lot, actually. First, that charity never faileth. The service part made me feel better and I knew it was the right thing to do. It also showed me to not offer anything to spoiled brats because it wont be good enough for them anyways. So that's my word of advice. Stay away from soup nazi's.
