Friendless Love

Posted by fxckfeelings on January 19, 2012

Sometimes, when you most need friendship, neediness messes it up. Maybe it’s a need for the wrong kind of person or for the wrong kinds of intimacy that are very satisfying in the short run and explode later. Ultimately, friendship isn’t the answer to your needs, but managing your needs will give you a good friendship.
–Dr. Lastname

I have always had a problem with keeping friendships because of moving too much, anxiety, and some other reasons. Almost every friend that has come into my life seems to be very needy and I tend to become anti-social when this happens. My current best friend has showed many signs of being very clingy and a bit controlling; she buys me things when she knows I am busy just so she can hang out with me, she calls me frequently even though she knows I dislike talking on the phone, she is demanding and apologetic at the same time. I am confused on what to do because she is always there for me and I can’t always be there for her. Lately, I have been having so much negative feelings about her that I don’t want to work on the relationship and this is exactly my problem—I lose people because I let my feelings get in the way. Maybe I am not finding the right people to hang out with? I mean we have so much in common, but that might be the problem because we both have severe anxiety and what we hate about life seems to be all we talk about, so it’s just negative energy most of the time. I will admit I am selfish and should be more thankful that I have someone that understands me and is there for me, but I guess I am too unhappy in my life and unhappy with myself to be appreciative of the goodness in others. It’s something I would like to work on, but I don’t even know where to begin.

Whatever draws people into relationships– neediness, sex, an encyclopedic knowledge of “Law & Order”—it isn’t necessarily good for you. When you’re operating on instinct, you stop thinking.

It sounds like you’ve got a good idea of what’s good for you, and it’s a friendship that discourages whining and encourages breathing room and independence. Nevertheless, you give in to the pull of your instinctive need for needy, whiny friends.

Once you give in, you’re stuck. You like the close attention and some of the intimacy, but you also don’t like the high demands and expectations, so you want to pull away. That leaves you guilty, lonely, and more in need of a needy friend. The shitty friendship cycle remains unbroken.

Instead, get a grip and start to choose friends who are more independent and less fun to complain with. Don’t expect the getting-acquainted process to feel as natural and easy as it usually does, because if it feels too comfortable, you’re probably making the same mistake.

At the same time, discourage your current needy friends from expecting long windy complaint-fests. Keep the conversation positive, don’t share negative feelings, and stick to a schedule. You may be pleasantly surprised to find that needy friends get less sticky when you give them firm boundaries.

Don’t let guilt make you passive or discouraged. It may be impossible to change your relationship preferences, but you can have better relationships if you’re clear about what you want, force yourself to make better choices, and get the kind of friend you really need, not a needy friend.

STATEMENT:
“I feel like I’m a selfish friend who never gives as much as I get and resents the needs of others, but I believe I can do better if I find friends who are less needy. It’s time for me to find such friends, discourage needy behavior in others, and avoid indulging in it myself.”

My closest friend and I usually tell each other everything, and she always seeks my advice before doing something rash and probably dumb (she’s really ADD), and give it to her straight (within reason, and/or as tactfully as possible). The problem is that, when she wants to go forward with a decision she knows is risky (at best, really dumb at worst), I become the bad guy who won’t admit that I really don’t want her to be happy, even though, in reality, I just want what’s best for her. When she got together with her now-husband, I told her the situation was tricky (long-distance, financially rough, etc.), and when she stuck with it and complained to me about the whole thing, it was hard to be totally supportive. After a while, she took my worries about the nature of the relationship as me lying, actually hating her husband, plotting against her happiness, etc. So she didn’t tell me she was eloping hundreds of miles away until the last minute, and when I couldn’t make the arrangements with 10 minutes notice, she thought it was another lie, not a logistical nightmare. When I found out that I was the only person not told she was pregnant, that was the last straw; she said she wanted to talk about it, but her lying to me was so hurtful, unfair, and hypocritical that I didn’t see the point in trying to change her mind anymore, and it’s been months since we’ve talked. My goal is to do the right thing, and while I don’t want to hurt my friend and I miss her, my gut tells me it’s best to just let her live her life and protect myself from being hurt again, since she treats me like an enemy, anyway.

Whenever you find yourself giving a close friend constant coaching about her life, watch out. Intimate advice-giving makes a relationship feel very close and, at times, it may do some good; but you’re playing with fire or, more accurately, all the feelings your friend has towards her parents and everyone else who has given her advice and criticism over the years.

Given that she’s often impulsive (or so you’re implying), she’s probably received more than her share of disapproving advice and is touchy and defensive as hell. She doesn’t think you’re a liar—she thinks you’re her mom.

True, we shrinks give coaching and advice all day every day, but it works best when we keep it brief and business-like and don’t need friendship from the person we’re advising. When we start to care too much, we sound like parents and stir up the same damn hornets’ nest of negative feelings in those we advise.

Imagine, for a moment, removing the “tell each other everything” part of your relationship with your friend and then ask yourself whether the friendship might still be worthwhile. Yes, it would be less satisfying for both of you, but, if she really likes complaining about her life, she should get a dog (that’s my answer for almost everything). If you really like giving advice, become a shrink. Or a manicurist.

When the stinging goes down a bit, firm up your boundaries and see if your relationship becomes more positive. Say whatever honestly positive things you can possibly say about her husband, marriage, and pregnancy. Discount your months of withdrawal in a way that blames no one and signals no danger of confrontations—just wish her well.

Perhaps your performance will salvage the love and good times you’ve shared over the years. If not, you’ll hurt, but you’ll know you did the right thing, and that’s the truth.

STATEMENT:
“I feel unbelievably hurt by my friend’s shutting me out after we’ve been closer than sisters for many years, but I think she did it because we were too close, and not because she wished to hurt me, and there may be a way to build a better relationship. I’ll try to ignore the hurt, build on what was good, and see if a better kind of intimacy can develop.”