Confessions of a Friendship Failure

Until I started planning for my wedding, I'd never been forced to acknowledge what a sh*tty friend I'm capable of being. Don't get me wrong: I'm a great friend when I'm nearby, there are plans for us to see one another, or you're active on social media. If we're lucky enough to work together, it's not even a question. But for those dearest friends whom I've known the longest, I find myself time and again coming to terms with the fact that I put out a dreadful effort in nearly every area. 

So when it came time for me to choose bridesmaids, I was faced with the fact that, of the three women who immediately sprang to mind when I imagined who'd stand beside me on my wedding day, I'd spoken to only one of them properly within the past month. What's more, I hadn't visited any of them — they all live in different states — in at least a year. And let me tell you: it feels shameful to ask somebody to support you on the best day of your life when you've barely been involved in theirs. 

In my non-work life, I struggle with something I typically refer to as "anxious inaction," which is a fancy way of saying: I procrastinate doing anything for fear that I won't be able to do it well. This not only means that I avoid tackling intimidating projects until crunch time, but it also means that important emails that need my full attention or decisiveness go weeks without an answer, or that my close friends and family don't receive texts or phone calls for long spans. It's not that I don't want to talk to them — it's that I worry that a quick text over lunch or short phone call while I walk to my bus won't result in the sort of meaningful connection that I owe my loved ones. And somehow, that reasoning (which I know is absurd) results in me not making a social effort at all, and my friendships are neglected entirely because of my fear of half-assing anything. 

Wedding planning more than anything has helped me to recognize this personal flaw, as I've watched myself retreat into procrastination and indecisive inaction in several areas of my life. Need to ask my parents about a budget question? Avoid it for weeks. My coordinator wants to set up a meeting with the florist? Mark her email unread and forget to reply for a month. The DJ needs a contract signed? Put it off until he follows up for the fourth time. And I see this same anxiety-induced stagnancy in my own friendships, to the point where some of my closest friends will go I contacted for months at a time. 

While it hurts to recognize my own inadequacies as a friend, it's a good thing because I've been able to take steps to solve the problem. I talk to my friends more now, even when I've got nothing particular to say or only have a minute to chat before bed. I've expressed my concerns to them about being a bad friend, and have shared my feelings of anxiety. I try not to let myself enter the sort of antisocial fugue state that I often resort to, staying inside for entire weekends where the only people I'll talk to are the grocery store checkout clerk, my dogs, and Christopher when he comes home from work.

I can say it: I am a crappy friend. But I'm hoping that by this time next year, I'll consider myself a decent one. Hell, maybe even a good one. (Baby steps!)