“Call me if you need anything.”
“I’m here for you.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
We’ve all said those words at one time or another to a friend or family member who was in pain. I’ve said them myself, many times. But it wasn’t until my husband of nearly 30 years walked out on me, telling me he wanted a divorce as soon as possible because “women don’t date separated men” and to sell the house right away, that I realized firsthand how inadequate those words actually are.
In many ways, I’m very lucky. My son is healthy; I’m healthy, there’s money in the bank and eventually I’ll be okay. But this is the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. It left me crying in a ball on the floor. The day it happened, I was able to call one friend who dropped everything to come over. After I sent a hysterical text later that night, another friend arranged an evening out with a few others. A third friend, whom texted wanting a dinner date with my husband and me, dragged me out of the house a few days later and watched when I could only eat a few spoonfuls of soup. Another friend, who was supposed to watch our dog on the vacation my husband canceled behind my back, spent that weekend with me instead. (I am extremely lucky that I have so many friends.)
I announced the news on Facebook a few days after he left, after it took a few days to track down my mother to tell her directly. I got a lot of replies like the ones above.
I ignored all of them. I concentrated on the folks who called, who sent gifts, who texted at the start of the day and then at the end. And now that I’m coming through it, this is what I’ve learned:
People in enormous pain are too broken to reach out to you to ask for help, or tell you what you can do. It’s the people who call us, who stop by and make plans and don’t take no for an answer that fill that need. If you don’t contact us, we won’t contact you.
On the other hand, too much contact is overwhelming. Don’t feel bad if you’re not one of those who can stop by and sit with a hysterical person. Most people have enough friends and family that having to constantly answer texts, phone calls, etc. with the same story just makes the pain all that worse. Of course, if you know that your friend only has a small circle to rely on, be one of the people who comes over.
Do not call to offer support and then make the conversation all about your problems. Listen, offer words of comfort, bring dinner, let her cry. But complaining about your own marriage or job situation to someone in enormous pain is worse than not calling at all. Don’t do it.
Don’t expect your friend to have the energy for normal activities that you might have enjoyed engaging in together. Pain is physically exhausting. If all she wants to do is sit on the couch, sit with her.
Don’t ask her for any favors. Some days getting up in the morning takes everything she has.
Don’t expect her to hold her tongue if you act like a jerk. Her nerves are frayed raw and she’s not able to maintain a polite fiction if you minimize her situation.
Make sure your friend has plans on weekend nights. Those evenings are the hardest of the week to be home alone.
My life is like living inside a tornado. Less than a month ago, I thought I’d be with this man for the rest of my life. Now I’m closing on a new house in two weeks, moving the first day of September, and will probably be divorced by my 51st birthday. It’s incredibly painful, so exhausting, but it’s also like ripping off a Band-Aid. I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Again, I know I’m so much luckier than so many others who’ve gone through this, or worse. I have friends who came out of the woodwork to stand by me who’ll be an important part of my life forever. I’ll do anything for them. And there are friends I barely heard from. No hard feelings there, but it’s good to know who you can count on and who you can’t.
There are a lot of people in a lot of pain in this world. If you can be the kind of friend they need, they’ll never forget it.
