Wednesday, June 3, 2009

My status updates

"Angie is sorry she hasn't called you back, but her baby died five months ago and she just doesn't feel like it."

This would be my status update today on Facebook if I cared about being honest. Since reading Molly's post a few weeks ago about honest status updates, I am constantly writing them in my head, like little captions in my life, especially when I drive.

"Angie thinks that people who drive recklessly never had their child die."

I have fantasies of raw, snarky, blunt horrible little things I would write on my status updates. Maybe I just like writing in the third person, it makes me feel less emo.

"Angie hates your little green plant and doesn't think it does shit for the rainforest."

Still, this isn't really about Facebook. I have begun hearing the whispers that my lack of returned calls and small talk is bugging people who rarely called in the first place. I have the conflicting impulses to both cut all these people out of my life, and also leave a window open to possibly have friendships with not very compassionate people when the grief is less raw. I had friendships with not so compassionate people before, maybe I will again. But will I ever forget who said what?

"Angie thinks you should appreciate your fucking morning sickness."

Sometimes I annoy myself with all this complaining about other people stuff. I have some amazing friends. I do. Some of those amazing friends have sent me only a couple of emails, or called a few times, and that is all they need to do. Support is not quantifiable. I know they love me. I know I can call, no matter what, and they will be there, even if we talked twice since Lucy died. I love those people. I hope they know who they are.

"Angie had decided the day of reckoning is here. Let's see who stands tomorrow, you heartless bastards."

And I go through my friend list, and erase any and everyone who couldn't even muster a bloody lameass 'I'm sorry' via email, wall post, text message, smoke signal...come on, people. I am not expecting the full gamut of dinner/wine/babysitting/memory necklace. Just some human freaking decency to say "It must have sucked to have your baby die, even if I am a boy/don't have a baby." But to be honest, I suspect I might have 1% of the friends. I also think defriending is more trouble than it is worth. So, instead, I am taking the coward's way out and blogging about it. I'm feeling feisty today.

"Angie wishes it were socially acceptable to have a Bourbon Holiday some days."

16 comments:

  1. oh man.. don't we all think those thoughts! Hearing people's petty complaints really get to me now, so much more.

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  2. uh huh.

    the nimwits I encountered this weekend...with their baby the same age as Rose - as they drove onto the busy street with their son NOT IN HIS CARSEAT...I thought - universe, why us, why not them. And I didn't even feel bad for such a nasty thought.

    I'm weary of the rumblings of judgements on my grieving I've heard....yes, I canceled on them at the last minute, but did they really think I could sit there making small talk with that lovely naive, first time pregnancy belly, or with the single, childless and carefree lifestyles...I mean, how could I really relate or figure out small talk with any of them anymore? Did they even really want me there with my sad little life or did they just want to pass judgement on what they think I *SHOULD* be doing, from their unknowledgeable and uninformed point of view?

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  3. I trot out a ton of reasons for not joining FB/MS, chief among them is that I really don't want to be in contact with people. Probably because I've come to expect the worst.

    But here you've tapped another reason entirely: My little updates would be so offensive and rude. That said, maybe no one would take interest? Hmmm.

    I'm presently trying to decide (so far, I'm two weeks into this decision) whether to email back a "friend" who wrote, verbatim, "I'm sorry," and then two weeks ago asked if he and his GF could crash on my couch this summer for a night. What to do.

    "Tash thinks you're all heartless bastards. Get a hotel."

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  4. "Jewels Green thinks Angie's blog should be made into a book and wishes she knew someone in publishing who could make this happen."

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  5. Man, FB. I stupidly joined after Sam died and got "friend" requests from people who didn't bother to pick up the phone/send an email and I thought 'why isn't there a you-suck button on FB?'. Sigh. I quickly deleted my account. And Tash is right - I've since resigned myself to expecting the worst from folks, sadly and on occasion, I'm pleasantly surprised.

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  6. Raw, snarky, and blunt, maybe, but not horrible. I mean, there is something intensely moral about what you would like to say. What you do say. For me, I love the way you toss your head. And am signing up for that bourbon holiday.

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  7. m thinks someone should make up a word for laughing and snorting and looking kind of sad at the same time. Cuz you get it. But you wish you didn't have to.

    Snarkathizing?

    Oh FB, what to do with a space when so many portions of my online/offline personi meet and gather in one place? Oh the status updates I WISH I would write. But I don't. Because I don't want to freak people out. And I would.

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  8. Ok, I have to admit I would cheer you on with those status updates.

    How about:
    "Thinking about my dead baby... yes, again."

    or

    "No, I'm not over it yet."

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  9. I love it. It's so tempting, isn't it? :)

    Thank you for all your love. I almost emailed last night but I didn't want to awake my little co-sleeper. I will soon! Thank you for all your sweet words.

    Peace, my friend.

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  11. Yep, I'm still off FB. I was a FB addict up until the very moment my baby died. The first thing I did when I returned home with her dead in my belly was delete my account. I went back once in January - even posted photos of said dead baby - disaster. Not for me anymore sadly. I don't belong in that happy shiny place where dreams come true and 9 months ALWAYS ends in happily every after.

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  12. "Molly thinks that her friend Angie is one of the very smartest, most real, and loving people she has ever had the good fortune to know. And that it is one of life's true ironies that she met her due to so much tragedy in both their lives. The world is a seriously fucked up place and yet every once in a while you catch a break."

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  13. i don't have many good things to say about facebook. i too deleted myself after lev died. i couldn't face my beautiful pregnant self pics or the facebook world. it feels fake to me. i got so many friend requests from people i have seen for 15-20 years, but that was it, they didn't really care to know me, just to have more friends on their list.

    i am with you about friends who just are not friends anymore...i've deleted a couple myself, not many though. and those that have been there it's not like i see them all the time or talk to them much, it's just those few calls or emails, just knowing that they are truly there for us. and i'm so grateful for them as well. and for you too angie!

    xox

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  14. Thanks for leaving your comment on my blog today. I'm so sorry about your baby girl - it's just tragic that we have to lose such a precious new life.
    WOnderful post - I deleted everyone from my life who couldn't muster up the courage to contact me after Kara's death. They are deleted from my life. xxoo

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  15. I need to write a long post myself about this friend business, the many casualties coming from the death of my daughter. The best friend I never thought would leave my life; now I can never imagine talking to her again. The friendships, already strained over long distance, which seem to now be broken. The people I thought were close, who cared, who still haven't sent a word; not a syllable, not a sound, nothing.

    I'm so grateful for those left standing, who shine. And for those newer in my life, up for such intimacy. But it's hard to be disappointed, to not feel more than a bit bitter about the others.

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  16. I know what you mean, I find myself trying to constantly appear chipper and like I'm doing interesting fun stuff instead of dying inside. Yesterday, I went to see De La Soul in Nottingham, one of only 2 UK dates, everyone wishes they had tickets, and I did. Instead of being really excited, I spent the entire train journey in tears. Spent the walk to the hostel forcing myself not to turn around again and go home. The panic attacks for not being able to hide. Anyway, i did get there in the end, and I enjoyed it in a fashion. 20 year anniversary of '3ft high and rising'. But as soon as I left the fleeting distraction had gone and I am left with the feeling of utter desolation again.

    So my facebook status is that I 'can't shake this blue'. Because thats as honest as people are interested in hearing, any deeper and they disappear.

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