For better or worse or some magnitude betwixt, I’m fairly well-known in the behavioral health community. Over the years I’ve been the subject of supposition and gossip. As an example – and the most ludicrous of all – is the tale I tried to make someone kill themselves “and it almost worked” I was told. Hilarious.

If I had that much effective reality sway I’d manipulate the universe such and I’d win the lottery every Sunday for 100 years paid out in overripe pumpkins presented to me by Elle MacPherson in a fiberglass insulation bikini whilst wading in a pool of red, green, and yellow Jello. Alas, this will never be. Nor will the idiotic assertion I can commit murder through projected suicide. Hilarious.

For the past week I’ve been lamenting the termination of my days with Bex. Good choice? Sure. When my gf relegrates me to the cheap seats in her multifaceted-important-relationships-priority-hierarchy (MIRPH) and has a readily rehearsed cornucopia of reasons why I’m least important . . . well, I’ll miss her kids a lot.

The thing is, somebody talked. Somebody at our SUTS support groups shared with others outside group what I shared inside group. Outside my close friends and Diane, the only people I’ve revealed my dissipating sorrow with is the folks at SUTS.

How do I know this? Because I’ve received three texts and one phone call from lasses offering emotional support for my “I’ll miss you at first and then not at all” post-breakup grieving. These are lasses well-removed from SUTS attendees and in one instance geographically well-removed from Albuquerque.

Confidentiality indiscretion aside, what I find both charming and amusing is these offers of emotional support are couched in terms “I’m here for you, but you know, just as friends.” The caveat reveals so much.


Offering emotional suport to a friend is by default “just as friends.” The distinction is only important to qualify if the misperception of romantic manipulation might be an issue.


Of course, the possibility of relationship misperception would only need clarification if already in my mind. Not my mind. My default position is when a friend calls to offer a shoulder the only physical contact will be that shoulder craddling my weeping head. I’m not thinking of all the neat ways that shoulder and my head could also touch each other.

Here’s what I mean. There was a lass I knew who would regularly preface a reflective self-assessment with “I don’t really care what John thinks of me” or “It doesn’t matter what John is telling other people.” Is that so? How John views your value isn’t a cognizant consideration? Then why bring it up? If how John feels about you is unimportant, the topic of John’s opinion wouldn’t even be brought up. Apparently, his opinion of you is such a preoccupation of yours you need to clarify his opinion means nothing to you. Your words betray what is in your heart.

Likewise, if these lovely women reaching out to offer their comfort didn’t have further intent beyond friendship, their kind offer wouldn’t need the clarification “but just as friends.” My laser-sharp insight suspects other motivations perhaps are afoot.

As said, this is both charming and amusing. And, it’s entirely appreciated because I’ve felt unappreciated in that my love was considered a consulation prize. I’ve been busting arse with every possible coping skill in my WRAP arsenal to keep my chin up and out of bipolar depressive decline. This is the risk after a manic episode. My friends who have not qualified their emotional support as “but just as friends” have been with me all weekend (thank you Meggers, Dean, Kylea, Kasey, Brian, Bryan, Alex, Matilda, Julie, Cherry, Ducky, Chris, Mat, and Derek). I’ve got awesome “just as friends.”

Still, some “not just as friends” adoration will be very kind, and since I already had a reservation at Resaturant Antiquity it’s nice I won’t suffer the ego bruise of cancelling the reservation.

Just as friends, though. For the most part.