An Open Letter to my Friends

My phone used to constantly be pinging with messages and snapchats. I couldn’t put it down for a minute, I would be missing out on the group chat.

Its not like that anymore. If I get a message, it’s probably my boyfriend. Or my mum. No big deal.

I don’t really talk to anybody anymore. In first year of university I felt so lonely, but I was actually so well connected. Now, you’ll find me in one of two places: my room at uni, or the library. I don’t reach out to my friends, and I’ve not done so for the past year.

This wasn’t on purpose: I am bad at responding to personal messages, they can sit in my notifications for hours, maybe days, before I get to them. I don’t check my phone as often as I used to, and after getting ill, the energy to keep conversations going escaped me. I don’t have anything interesting to talk about, and I quickly devolve into short responses. A conversation with me seems pointless, so eventually people give up. I get it.

I do not blame anyone for giving up; I probably would too.

But I’d like you all to know that it wasn’t on purpose. And that I am grateful for you all, even if you don’t hear from me month in, month out.

My friends are spread around the country, at home, in Glasgow, Edinburgh, Aberdeen. And adult friendships are hard as it is, our schedules don’t match, and we are all drained after long days. That is just life, when we do see each other, we will have loads to catch up on, and it will be like nothing has changed. I just won’t be able to message you every day like we used to.

If you’ve gotten in touch with me and I haven’t replied I want to reassure you that it’s not your fault: I’m genuinely just terrible at it now. I know I would take it personally if it seems that someone is just ignoring me.

If you’ve reached out while I’ve been posting about being ill or in hospital, I spent those days sleeping, on pain medication and in a very strange mental state. Not to mention generally, I've been on Pregablin and other strong painkillers that knock you for six. 

I’m taking to calling the period between March and June the ‘lost period’. Seriously. I have ‘favourites’ from all the other months that I can remember, but I can’t remember anything between March and June; this was the worst point of my Crohn’s flare and my main focus has been trying to monitor my condition. It was at this point Crohn’s completely took over my life. Everything was pushed to the side lines here: the needs of my family, my plans about heading home, my boyfriend, it became the point where I spent days laying face-down in bed unable to move or eat without feeling worse. 

This was also when most people were reaching out to me, having not heard from me in ages. 

My depression and anxiety have come back in full force, with moments thinking that I would never get out of my flare, so what is the point of being here?

And with depression and anxiety, whether or not you want to reach out to people changes anyway, and you see no point in it.

For many people, it has been so long since we’ve had a proper conversation, or you’ve tried to start a conversation and I’ve just not responded, so why would you want to hear from me? I don’t add anything to your life, and I’ll just be a burden if all I have to talk about is my health.  The normal, unhealthy intrusive thoughts that come along with the joys of depression.

So even when I’ve wanted to reach out to you and check that you are doing okay, my own mental state hasn’t allowed me to.

It sucks.

So anyway, moving away from the ‘lost period’.

I do not feel like this anymore.

I’m still ill, I’m still busy, but I want to make more of an effort to keep in contact with everyone.

I’m still apprehensive to reach out or message you, especially if you’re one of these people who’ve reached out and I’ve not been able to respond.

I might not be catching your posts on social media as much

But I still care about how you’re doing. Especially if I never see you in person.

I’m going to try to be better at responding to messages, but I can’t make promises: everybody feels drained from time to time and depending on how fatigued I am, you might not hear from me.

But I will try.

The easiest and best thing to do, if we can fit it in, is arranging meeting in person. It ties me down and means that (1) I get out of Dundee or my house, and (2) we will have a decent conversation. I find that messaging doesn’t get the emotions across- I could be telling a dry joke about my health and it would look like I’m complaining or attention seeking. It’s better in person, by far.

I know that meeting up in person seems impossible, but I’m keen to travel about when I feel normal. It will help. I know schedules are hard to line up, plans change and it’s hard to arrange, but this year especially I will be travelling around to different cities attending legal events (it is, after all, the summer internship year) and it would be good to see you if we can. I'll reach out when I have an event coming up, and we can see if we can arrange something. Like proper twenty-somethings. Yikes. 

Anyway, I’m sorry again

And thank you for still sticking by me even when I’ve not responded to your messages

It really means a lot to know that my friends are still there and haven’t abandoned me, even when abandoning me would make a lot of sense.

Let’s try harder now my life seems to be getting a bit more on track

Leanne-Sydonie x