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The 9 Symptoms With Examples From My Life As A Quiet BPD
- Fear of Abandonment My mother would pull over, leave me on the sidewalk and then drive around the block. If I showed any weakness or emotion by the time she pulled the car around, she'd go around the block again. I even was left at church, with no tools to communicate about my vehicle, my mother's appearance. Phone number? Starts with a 5 like the rest of the entire town, after that I don't know. Street address? No idea. I knew/understood their questions, but I simply didn't know the answer. Nobody told me. Anything. Most of my family would rarely announce that they either arrived home or that they were leaving the home. Again, if I was to show emotion, then they'd communicate even less than before. So this developed the Quiet BPD because I internalized how frightened I am from age 0-6. Age 7 I adapted to the situation. I'd notice everyone gone, so I'd make sure all window blinds were closed, doors locked, doors closed. Defensive, instead of an aggressive BPD who might wreck the house or run away from the house. Later, I'd be locked out of the house which didn't bug me because then I'd start burning Hot Wheels cars on the side of the house and everyone would be somewhere without me. I would create car crashes with a lighter and a hammer. The smell of the burning plastic is so vivid in my mind, and such black smoke. Again, defensive, I always had a house key in my shoe, and a cup to drink from that was hidden in the back yard because this situation must have happened twice before I adapted. My dad might say "Whatcha doin?" and I'd respond with the safe minimum of "Just playing" (Lesson: Respond, don't react to toxic people.) but he couldn't hold the conversation long enough for me to say "Where were all of you? Thank god you're back, and I hate you all."
- Unstable Relationships I have never known love. Never seen an example, never experienced it. It's a worse feeling than I imagine trying to communicate to an alien that landed in your own back yard and you have this great opportunity. At least with an alien you could make noises, draw, write, use body language, motion. Since I was told to be seen and not heard as a kid, I would never know how to say I love someone. I would not even trust that three word sentence although it has come out of my lips and others close to me. The word love (in use for non-family members) is just so unattainable to me in my mind as far as what my partner would need to be, you know, several months down the road in a relationship with trust, patience, dealing with me as a secretive stage 5 clinger. I've never been called and have never be seen as needy, but it's all in my mind. On a scorecard that only I am allowed to see. And you'll never catch up even after I make mistakes in the relationship. I'll read facial expressions, postures, tones of voice. Whatever I feel becomes the truth to me, and I don't accept outside opinions (in that moment, for that week, for those years of splitting someone) when my mind is made up. So yes, I am incapable of love by that standard. I really understand and trust logic. If I dump an ex, and they catch me during that 2 hours (that my mind somehow determines, hey, whatever happened to that person?) in that one year since we broke up and say what they or I did logically, I'd date them again and it'd be close to a blank canvas. Of course, it has never happened. When I think of an ex, I think it's most loving to leave them be. Stalking an ex? Social media only. Notes on the windshield, slashed tires, hiding in bushes, no interest to me at all. Poetry? Mixtape? That would be my stalking style. But the poetry and the mixtape never get sent to my relationship partners. They aren't allowed to know about my obsession with them. Because I'd predict their reaction and it would never be the level of gratitude I'd expect. And it could be once every 2 years really that I'd think of an ex. They are so far from my mind. I don't want to know about their job, spouse, skiing trip. I get all that stuff from coworkers who I superficially know, so why would I need a repeat? I knew this (in #1) was not love. I'd break up my parents if they were hugging anywhere in the house. I always knew the hug was my dad apologizing to my mother, and therefore not authentic because my mom never initiated physical touch. Tons more to say on relationships. 100% of my exes have made contact with me, and I give them a breadcrumb about what happened, but I will not string anyone along about a reconciliation. This might contradict what I wrote above. Blocking your number? Blocking on social media? Never. Silent treatment is one of my worst traumas, so I won't do this to others. "Get off my phone before I hurt you" is the vibe, I give one warning that the conversation is done. Ghosting? Yes with an indication that I am about to do it. Door is open, but I'm not inside. You can leave a note and have some patience. I have no idea when I will split you back to white. There is no calculation I can give you. To anyone missing a BPD ex, we do think about you but we hate that you're probably having a normal life that we'd never be comfortable interrupting. Too paranoid. Too much rejection. I hoover, just very carefully, and it's rarely romantic. I check in to see if I'm hated and to see if anyone I really caused pain made it out ok. You probably won't know that I am hoovering. I genuinely care, just that it only returns eventually and on a timetable that only makes sense to me.
- Unclear or Shifting Self-image Do I like myself or hate myself and does it change? I am emotionally numb so I guess it really is one or the other. I like myself when others near me are happy. I hate myself when I make a mistake that makes others near me unhappy. So this shifts throughout a day. I'll tell you this. The music I listen to when no one is around is always hidden from my romantic partners. It is dark, dreary stuff and it is not on the radio. No one needs to know that. My past? I keep it vague and no one ever cares for a follow up. Maybe they sense the worst. Maybe they just don't want to get to know me. I've always been employed. Hated workplace bullying. Never cared about a high paying job or searching for others. That would mean faking all of this stuff over again at an interview, and then faking it with 100 new coworkers. I hated changing jobs because of fear of new people. Perfectionist at work. Called industrial, cold, but does what needs to be done. If I can't do it, I won't blame others, but I sure will hate myself, even for a typo in an email that probably will go unread. Ideas of what I want in life. I have things like a pension and retirement ahead of me, but I don't feel I'll ever live that long to get them. I have a fear that anyone I trust would be dead at that point when I'd cash in the pension, and I'd rather not claim the thing than go into a bank or office and say I don't know what to do, but give me money. If I ever plan more than 72 hours of my life in advance, it's something huge like a vacation. I have no 4 year plan. Religion? Atheist most of my life. Religious the past two years. An imaginary person is saying I'm ok. Yes, sign me up. That will be better than all of these real people who have let me down. I mirror people on religion. If they say they aren't religious, I'll lie and say I'm not too in order to fit in. There is a reason I love biographies and documentaries. I'm searching for what to do with my life and for knowledge and trivia as well. What am I even supposed to do in life? What have others done? Others that I would never need to ask because they are authors who I don't need to meet. I never want to be in a situation where I feel week for not knowing something. I know BPD that compulsively watch game shows too for this reason.
- Impulsive, Self-destructive Behaviors I don't have any of this stuff currently, and the craving to do any of this stuff was always low. Road rage as a kid, shoplifting on the job cost me a job as a kid. I never knew how to get a credit card, so no problem spending. I'm more of a cheapskate or simply don't care about material stuff. Never had a one night stand because I'd never believe someone liked me after two hours. It would all change on the drive home after a date, I'd think of nothing but sex with that person, but never express it until back in person again. Promiscuity and cheating. I was always monogamous. Astonishingly so from what I've heard. I never felt I used anyone, but I felt I couldn't express that I cared for them. For those of you wondering, we can be dependable and loyal for the entire thing. I'll still flirt in public while standing beside you though. I'm so excited to interact with someone new. Don't mess with that or you'll be shown the door. Do accept that, and you will get my attention and some of the best sex you've had twice a day if you can keep up. Pathological lying? Only when I was young. I'd used it to fit in or to avoid socializing. It was this sentence will shut them up or this sentence will show them I'm cool. Totally do not need it anymore. My real life stories sound like lies anyways. I don't ignore the scoffs. I once split a really good friend because he did not believe my lie, and it was from such a nice person who would never hurt me. I never apologized, but he was allowed back to my world. That example was absolutely my epiphany to stop the lying. I've eaten way too much fast food impulsively, and the food doesn't even register in my body, and I know it was empty and bad calories. I don't feel full, I don't feel better after binge eating.
- Self-harm Most of my favorite musicians, artists, authors, actors, entertainers have all ended their life directly or indirectly. I'll never tell anyone that though. That would be up to them to piece it together. It took me years to step away and look at the group that I had assembled as my heroes. My best friend's dad ended his life, and then his brothethe son did so too, so this influenced me not to self-harm. I'd rather journal, talk to a family member for hours without allowing them to interrupt me, distract myself by exercise to get anger out. I'd have dangerous thoughts when someone broke up with me, but never for more than a few hours and never more than one day. I rarely have people on deck in case of a break up. If I say there is no one else in the picture, I mean it. My go to things would be candles, music, and movies that would soothe me and never let me down. I'd be careful to never share this music and movies with romantic partners because if I watched a movie together with them and then they left, I'd attach them to my favorite thing and it would be a disaster. I'd have to split the movie!
- Extreme Emotional Swings The roller coaster. Well, the poker face will be there, I'll go more silent than usual. But something has happened. I'd say it like this. I would internalize five answers or reasons for the swing, and it would actually be reason number six and then the roller coaster would do the corkscrew 360. I hate it when my intuition lets me down or I ignore it and I get something wrong. Don't ever respond to my question with your own question. Please address my thing and then we can move on. You have skipped my turn and I will feel really emotional that I was abandoned. A crowd of people that I have to be near? No problem. A crowd of people who I have to be introduced to? I'd rather swim in lava then talk about the weather, the traffic, what I'm doing this weekend. I will say the wrong thing every time. It's all on me and I know it. I'll say sorry once in awhile, but I won't be waiting or worrying about your response to me finally apologizing. Yes I know it is overdue, but I don't feel you need to hear it because in my mind I thought you already knew how I am. Online dating. Very anxious. Crippling and super slow pace sometimes until I find someone on there with a personality disorder as well. I'll screenshot the conversations before I'm blocked or unmatched. If unmatched, I'll critique my game for next time. I'll save the photos for self-esteem even though I never met them and am now unmatched. This person wanted me! Never met them though, but that means for me I'm just as attractive as them! Look in the mirror, have a doubt, back to the phone yeah the bathroom mirror is wrong. I can go from totally bored on online dating, to that other person cracking the door a little and then here comes my manipulation. I have to use tricks because I have nothing to offer and do not know how to correctly date. Never knew where to look. The pickup and seduction community helped me. Of course, it was more about how to get sex than anything long lasting. They've helped me get out of a few bad/dangerous situations too, and without the other person really knowing that I sabotaged a relationship with a little drama thrown in. In one text this year, I manipulated someone about their dad, their ex and my loyalty all in the same sentence. This is my playbook. Go try and beat it if you want. It's just a conversation. It's all I know how to do. It's like the manipulation is a shortcut to normal for me. The thing is when a relationship goes from lovebombing, and then that unhealthy start goes to normal, I am already looking for the exit. It is not the person, it is the feeling that there is no more fun or challenge ahead. It's dye your hair time, it's buy some wild clothes time,it's redecorate your room time, but it can never last long. I exit the attraction at the theme park, and I don't turn back wanting another ride. Everything in my past is "ok" or "painful". That is my black and white. "Hell yes" and "hell no" are the others.
- Chronic Feelings of Emptiness I once made a dating profile that said "My hobbies are whatever hobbies yours are" or something like that and it got responses. But it was no joke and not cynical. I can never stick to hobbies. Only childish ones. Nothing grabs me. By the time it grabs me, I get bored. Ever heard of fake it til you make it? Your band is my fav band! Followed them since (and then insert decade here to be very vague). (Then go home and study six albums, memorize the lyrics, read the bios of the band and then return to you as an expert without you knowing!) If I want to learn a new thing, I expect to know all the lingo about that thing and have the knowledge of someone doing that thing for the last few years, and I want the knowledge now as if I was 2 years old and hungry. If I don't, I feel embarrassed for craving that thing and will move on to something new. I can fill the void with food a little. Going to a restaurant gives me the feeling that someone is caring about me and nourishing me. I could never be at a restaurant alone. I've dated people older than me who could not cook or balance a budget. There is an emptiness of knowledge. We feel we'd be punished, bullied, laughed at for raising our hand so we sit angry. I loved having pen pals in foreign countries versus growing friendships with people I could actually interact with. I could control the narrative. Pen pals were very important to me and I have told them so. I've met them on vacation, while I wouldn't travel to see friends who went away to college. These people are surpassing me in college, they've replaced me with vibrant people who I could never be, that is scary.
- Explosive Anger I know people I suspect have BPD. I do not have any outward anger, but I've tackled people, grabbed them from walking in the center of streets, weapons, on and on. I feel I can mirror their anger when necessary and deescalate from there. Taken injuries that I didn't deserve because I cared and didn't want to be abandoned. I've always fought in self defense. I can avoid confrontation with charisma and negotiating my way out. But when diplomacy fails, I will say or do the perfect thing to hurt someone. I've been studying them, listening, watching and know that vulnerability. Back to logical thinking, I've always faced narcissist romantic partners. They might win 9 battles. That 10th battle? The one I win? It will be more powerful than those 9 combined. It will be near a break up. Near a split. And me personally, I'll be drained afterwards. It is so exhausting for me to rage. I'll never show it to whoever I argued with, but it hurts when I have to cut someone out. It's a psychological attack on them only. It might have several steps. I will practice it. I will prepare. When they are my romantic partner, I am a narcissist's worst nightmare and I've taken down all types. I'm blind to who they are, but when I see the truth, it's going to be an L for them. Examples? I'll remember text messages, phone calls, notes, experiences, and figure out a puzzle of pain to deliver. Only to the worst people to ever screw me over. I've waited years in some cases. I'm always sitting near the chessboard even if they are not. Never strangers, acquaintances, coworkers. Keyboard warriors could be Quiet BPD as well. They'd never do anything in person, just words. I've done plenty of internet trolling, but always in the context of games where there was a competitive edge and intimidation. Never would do a personal attack, but enjoyed causing other types of drama for attention. I'd have accounts where I was an angel the entire time and other accounts that I'm ashamed that I operated for so long as a complete sadist. Facebook or Instagram trolling, never interested because they were real people. Trolling an ex? No, game was over long ago. I feel that your failure without me in your life will be my anger toward you and it is continuous.
- Feeling Suspicious or Out of Touch With Reality Tons of amnesia. I can remember expensive vacations and trips, yet only remember the negatives of the trips, my mistakes, my culture errors or faux pauxs, my language errors, getting lost. Places I really wanted to go with people I really liked. None of the joys are there. Your joke is gone, your hand holding is gone, your secrets stay, but I don't have anyone to tell it to so it is safe with me. We have no friends, but it might be interesting. Yay for memories! Not remembering people's names, names of buildings and attractions, but remembering their face, their clothing, their words, the light left in the night sky. Not wanting to get to know anyone except superficially. Pseudonyms, nicknames, all super fun. Dating people for months and both of us agreeing to not act our age for months. My parents gave me my name, and since I mostly hate them, why not start over with a new one? Social media accounts. I could delete half of my friends in one sitting. I hover over the button. I participate in social media to fit in. I have had accounts with numbers so low (that there is no risk, everyone will like my post no matter what) and I'd still have anxiety to add something or send a request. I could have a draft of a social media post, work on it and edit it for longer than I care to admit, and then never even post it because maybe it didn't really happen that way how I am about to showcase it or for any suspicious reason at all. And another day goes by when in reality to everyone else having a fantastic life, apparently on this day, nothing significant happened today. I can remember seeing my partner's phone and my picture as the avatar on the text message screen. Thinking I sent them that photo recently, but it was ages ago. I will ask (manipulate) people to take off their sunglasses when speaking to me so I can read them.
Is it me or is this really not a hard thing to do?
But let's start with Thanksgiving: Nov 30 will be the 1 year anniversary of my attempt.
The months in between then and March were hell, with my mother showing more and more her true colors. When I just couldn't and was done with her, I distanced myself by behaving the same way literally everyone in that house behaved. Retreating to my room and staying away from everyone.
After a month she punished me for it under the guise of something else. When confronted she said, "It's not punitive, I just felt like you hated me!" She saw nothing wrong with this. No red flags in her eyes.
A couple months passed, and after I got home from voting in March, I was met with a night so traumatic that the next day on my way to work, I had a trauma-induced episode (that's all doctors can say since no one really assessed me then), and drove 231 miles (I did the math) out of my way on my way to work.
I was involuntarily hospitalized and given no treatment- really, actually none. There I was threatened by staff, some of whom flat out refused to do their jobs in helping me. I begged to be let out citing previous acceptance to a long-term abuse shelter. They stalled the process so long that by the time I was let out, I was 2 days on the wrong side of lockdown. (Also the cabbie from the hospital tried to convert me).
Welcome to homelessness. Every shelter of every kind everywhere was suddenly acting on the mandate of, "No one in or out due to COVID" or "We have to be very selective right now."
After an entire afternoon of calls to shelters and rejections across the board, I turned to people I knew. I asked friends and family that I still trusted and was summarily met with rejections once more.
"It's just not a good time for us."
"That's not fair to ask- it's really inconvenient."
"My partner said no."
"That's so uncomfortable."
I slept in my car that night and it wasn't lost on me how much safer I felt in the back seat of my car at the end of a Walmart parking lot than I had in my parents' house as long as I could remember.
The next morning some so-called "good Christians" I'd known in college said they'd help me. But when I was unable to find a job within 3 weeks during lockdown, they decided I wasn't trying. I was initially told I'd be circulated between 3 households, but before I'd even gone to the second, suddenly I was offered an AirBnB. The only reason I said yes was because the girl I'd been staying with would stay up very late right where I was supposed to sleep. When I mentioned in front of her that I needed a regular sleep schedule and it was vital for my mental health, she began camping out there until 4:00 AM, with laundry or what have you spread everywhere so I couldn't even sit down.
So yeah, I was ok with their proposal that I could benefit from time by myself. But there was something they completely left out. I only started to get an idea that it was the case once I left the first girl's apartment. I texted one of the other girls. Apparently this was goodbye, I had these 2 weeks and then they were done with me. She said I was being selfish because "I just spent all my money on you!" But ho, no one asked you to. At this point it was clear that they'd spent money so that I'd be the bad guy for wanting what was initially promised. They'd encouraged applying for section 8 and wouldn't listen when I told them the waitlist had been closed since September of 2018. They said again I wasn't trying. And don't forget I was still trying to process all the trauma I'd endured as far back as always.
I did get a job at a dollar store PT paying absolute shit, but working there became more and more difficult because the weight of everything felt so oppressive, so physically burdensome that I had trouble walking, trouble moving, and my steps often faltered.
So then I went to stay with the boyfriend of a poly girl I'd known. I asked him upfront what he needed from me financially. He said, "Probably nothing for the first 2 months, then maybe $400 the last month." 6 days before the beginning of the next month he stopped me to let me know he'd need $200 by the 1st of the month. When asked why he didn't tell me this sooner, he responded, "I couldn't've told you before because I only decided today." I asked him to work with me on it and he flat out refused. When I mentioned that every day was life and death for me (because it actually was), he laughed in my face. He was just so incredibly cruel and unempathetic it shocked me.
I wrote him a check for $200 and he cashed it immediately. But before the month began I reached out to a friend in South Florida (I was in Central Texas), who it always seemed had some kind of social awkwardness toward initiating anything. She said I could come stay with her, and when I asked the guy for the money back, he agreed on the condition that "nothing was busted up."
I ended up getting $150 back, but I knew he'd make me jump through hoops and try to subjugate me and humiliate me for that last $50. I decided it wasn't worth that kind of degradation, dumped my recycling on the floor in the room I'd stayed in (technically not busted up), an easy clean, and I told him I had one more thing to do with my car before coming back in and leaving. I went to my car, and on the way stuck his spare keep deep in the dirt outside the complex. The key was old, muted, and rusty and the grass was dead. A hard, but not impossible find. And I left.
I told him through aforementioned poly girl that if he venmoed the remaining $50, I'd tell, him where exactly the key was. But that he did have it. I did learn that poly girl who I'd always held in such high regard had actually never had any respect for me, somehow citing the "all my exes are crazy rule," which was hella insulting. Abusive family units are an actual fucking thing, and so is systemic classism and condemnation of the poor and homeless.
I was in the wrong with the friend in Florida, though. So much had happened and there was a lot I didn't understand about it. I didn't understand that I was an adult who now had to support herself. Fuck, I just didn't understand I was an adult period. I didn't understand I needed to pay for my own food. Nothing made sense to me. The world was spinning. But I did feel safe enough that I was finally diagnosed with PTSD. It manifested hard, and then it took over my mind. Intense night terrors, screaming in my sleep, waking up exhausted like I'd run all night from Jason Vorhees as played by Usain Bolt. Paranoia (often justified), massive anxiety, and emotional flashbacks every time I went grocery shopping. I also ate a lot more.
And my friend.... When I was with the girls we'd known in college, she went on 20 minute tangents about how I needed to feel supported. Now that I was there, she did nothing. She ignored me a lot. Told me all about how her boyfriend kept pushing to kick me out. Don't worry, she put a lot of emphasis on how she stopped him. She threatened to leave the 2 of us alone since he couldn't stand me (never mind what I was dealing with), and eventually complained about the gran total of what, 5 times? I'd vented to her when she said that was all she was willing to do- listen. It wasn't what I needed, but it was all she was willing to do.
She talked about how she was tired of hearing the same things over and over. (I might mention here that I've very much experienced people only willing to listen as long as the story was interesting. I was their entertainment, and they pretended it was charity.) She didn't want to hear about dark things either. But then failed to listen to literally every boundary I set. I told her I didn't want to continue arguments that had no point as we weren't going to convince each other. She continued to argue. She did that a lot. At one point she was telling a story about her family. She was talking about happy memories. I asked her to stop. Repeatedly. Then I yelled her name. Because that was hard for me to hear. Everyone complained about how hard it was to hear the dark stories of my upbringing, but bitch it work both ways. And people think it's an exception because, "But it's happy!"
Yes, hence why it's difficult for me to hear. This was as lost on her as it was on many others. One night we got into an argument, because I'd now seen her initiate conversations with her boyfriend and others while she never did with me. Not to mention that most of the time when I was talking to her, she'd be watching TikToks on her phone and protest, "What? I'm listening!" She wasn't. But I'd noticed different behaviors around other people. And so I finally asked her, "Why don't you ever initiate any conversations with me?" 7 years we'd been friends and I kid you not. Not. Once. This 29 year old had the audacity to come at me with, "You have to understand. I'm friends with more guys than girls." Because that makes a difference in how to treat people well. She then told me that "There are some relationships I reach out first, and some I don't." This was the Death Knell. All I had been going through, all the time she'd known me, she hadn't been socially awkward. She just didn't want to put that effort into our friendship.
She called me her bestie. It's because she isn't friends with other women.
On July 4th weekend she and her boyfriend went away for the weekend without saying anything. She'd been planning to break up with him since at least February (was even seeing someone else) so I worried for her safety. I hoped nothing bad was happening to her.
And then I looked on Facebook. "Riding the Hagrid! Best 4th of July ever!"- At Wizarding World of Harry Potter Universal Studios.
She'd mentioned that she might go there or Disney, and I did tell her why that worried me and that I would have to wear a mask and gloves, and disinfect everything once they returned if they did do it. And again we'd been friends for 7 years, so it wasn't hard to intuit that she just didn't want me to make a big, unnecessary deal. I packed my shit that night and left. They'd already expressed a desire for me to pay rent or get out (which was totally fair- I've never denied that) which was difficult given the issues with the PTSD still not sorted out. I had some money aside, but I'm not going to pay for a temporary solution to a permanent problem. Also I'm not about to settle down in Florida of all places. The hurricanes alone! The point is I'd already been researching where to go next.
I'm in Pennsylvania now. Within a week of getting into the city, I was able to get a job and an apartment. I was still heavily dissociating when I started the job, which resulted in everyone thinking I was overly anxious, and the stupidest thing the planet ever saw. Also my manager was telling everyone how into me he was. It was not pleasant to hear, "She's weird. And I like weird." parroted to me by a 15 year old. Then he asked me out.
I work somewhere else now. I think the dissociation has mainly left. I feel pretty safe in my work environment. But now I learn I've been dealing with a psychosis for a while, and I have to treat that. I can't afford to not work. But I also have to treat the psychosis. Money has gone missing from the register consistently, and I've been told it could be related. I had to call out again yesterday, because the Nurse Practitioner who "saw" me (telephone), prescribed a medication that ramped up all physical anxiety while not affecting me mentally. But since I was awake all night I couldn't go in, because between the PTSD and the bipolar, I am NOT ok when I haven't slept. My words make no sense, and bipolar alone makes me hallucinate.
THE POINT: I have been doing all of this alone. The people I still talk to absolutely NEVER check in with me. I reach out to them. 3 weeks just passed in which a "friend" and I did not speak. But Idk if anyone noticed but I'm living through literal hell over here.
IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT ONE OF THESE SO-CALLED "FRIENDS" SENDS ME THE OCCASIONAL TEXT CHECKING IN TO SEE HOW I'M DOING?! I REALLY DO NOT FEEL LIKE THAT IS A LOT TO ASK, AND I AM SICK TO GOD DMAN DEATH OF PEOPLE BLAMING IT ON BEING INTROVERTED OR NOT OUTGOING. IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH EITHER OF THOSE. YOU'RE JUST A SELF-INVOLVED DICK.
If I can reach out to several people to try and check in with them and ensure they're ok with minor tragedies, depression, or new life challenges-
I THINK THEY CAN SEND A DAMN TEXT ONCE IN A WHILE.
One of these people now has the audacity to say she's hurt that I had to ask if we're friends. Hmmm..... Let's see: You never share anything personal, even when prompted. I really do want to know about your life, and I really did want to make sure you were ok when you're house almost got singed by a wildfire. You said you had other people to talk to about serious feelings. And you also NEVER reach out. So actually you seem like a reluctant therapist who wants to ditch me at the first opportunity. WTF, you're hurt. You're hurt? YOU'RE hurt?
How do you think I feel?