My best friend and I went out for a little celebration yesterday. It was his birthday, which is definitely worth celebrating. He is, as I’ve said many times and will likely say many more times, one of the few truly good people in the world.
He helped me through a *very* difficult time last week and told me we’d get through it together. He didn’t say *I* would get through it. He said *we* would. That let me know he really means it when he says he won’t walk out of my life. Yesterday, I felt myself relaxing into that knowledge, but one of mine popped up immediately with a warning that that would only make us more vulnerable.
I feel like my best friend has a great amount of power over me. We discussed this, he and I. He, more than anyone, could break me apart. He’s seen every flaw and every weakness. He’s seen me shaking with anger, drawing back in fear, and sobbing with pain. In other words, he has seen through to the core of me, and I mean that in a DID sense. He was let in to the inner circle. Kathy, one of the two most important members of my inside group, explained that to both of us last year. My best friend has seen the absolute darkest of me. It’s a great honour to be in his presence, and my absolute pleasure to be his best friend.
Trust issues are difficult, though. I wish I could say I trust him completely, with absolutely no hesitance, but I can’t say that. He could break me. He chooses not to, but the thought that he *could* break me keeps some of mine from relaxing completely.
The point of this post, then, is to provide a ‘public’ thanks to one of the most amazing people and the greatest best friend I’ve ever known. It’s also to help others out there who have these same kinds of trust issues. I love my best friend with all of my heart, and I feel horrible about the hesitance some of mine feel. We’ve heard that sort of ‘I’ll never leave’ talk before, though, and have been hurt many times by people we trusted. Being on guard is a way of life for trauma survivors, *especially* for SRA survivors. The ground was pulled out from under us far too many times.
And that’s the other reason I’m writing this post– I want to tell others who are friends and loved ones of SRA survivors that the random switches and fear that sometimes pops up in us does not mean we don’t love or trust you. It just means that some of ours see you as a threat, simply because of the past. It’s not fair, but it’s reality. The closer we get, sometimes, the further some of our insiders try to drive us apart. It’s so hard to believe that someone would like us, much less love us and want to stay in our lives.
So thank you, for putting up with all of the stress that comes along with being in the lives of SRA survivors. Thanks for talking us through the tough times, reminding us that the cult was wrong, and showing us what love and family really means. Thanks for your protection, even when you don’t know you’re giving it. 🙂
And most of all, thanks for being the people who have made us think the unthinkable– that we are good people, not evil throughout, and that there are people who love us in spite of all the layers and puzzles we bring along. Those of us who are SRA survivors *have* to deal with the effects of our pasts. Those who love us take it on, even though they’d likely never had heard of that kind of horror if we hadn’t come into their lives. I can’t speak for all SRA survivors, but I can say that I’ll always be amazed, grateful, and honoured to have people like my best friend standing beside me.