That Fabulous Feeling of Complete Helplessness

Here's the deal. I hate confrontation. Always have, in all likelihood always will. It stems, I imagine, mainly from my upbringing. You'd have to meet my mom's side of the family to understand it, but the whole lot of them are big on the "we won't tell you we're mad at you, we'll just talk about you behind your back to everyone else in the family" way of life. I've heard a lot of what they've said about my black sheep aunt, so I shudder to think what they say about me... Anyway, there is a point hidden in here, and that point is that because I grew up around that mentality, it has always been difficult for me to share my feelings with people, and I've never really known how to deal with other people's feelings either. Bearing that in mind, this last weekend was... rough. I'm not going to tell the story here, mainly because I'm not in possession of all the facts or of everyone's point of view. I was not there when it technically started, and I was not there when (I think) it ended, or at least moved on. Suffice it to say, I was present as two of my very best friends in the world broke up. I don't know for sure why they were fighting to begin with, but relatively soon after I got there, it escalated to an actual breakup. So I, along with two more of my friends, got to stand by and watch a relationship implode, while being basically powerless to do anything about it. My friends tried to help, doing what they felt was right and trying to diffuse the situation, and I spent the weekend basically mute and useless. The thing is, though, is that their attempts to help were immediately classified as quote "meddling", and the girlfriend in the situation became quite impressively mad at both of them. However, she recently assured me that she wasn't mad at me, although it would depend on what my part was in the whole fiasco, just at my friends. So now I feel really bad, because my friends lost (or came close to losing) a good friend, and I did not. Not because I'm a more compassionate person, or because I did anything even remotely close to right, but because I can't open my stupid mouth, even when it matters most. I spent the entire weekend (and most of the last couple days) wishing I had the guts to simply speak up, but I never did, and now I feel like a lot of the suffering that went on this weekend was partly my fault. I've never been good at either making or keeping friends, so the prospect of losing the ones I've got now is absolutely terrifying. However, I don't believe that should be an acceptable excuse. Sometimes things need to be said, and as much as it hurts to say them, it's even worse not to. I don't know. Maybe I'll be able to fix my brain enough to be able to function in situations like that, and maybe I won't. I am going to try, though, because I can't sit idly by and watch people I love hurt themselves and each other any more.


Sorry this post is so bleak, it's been a rough couple of days. Next time, I promise, I shall be more cheerful.