It might sound funny because it was a long distance friendship, but then something changed. It was a little fissure here and there , and then the cracks began to spread out.  I had no idea a virtual friendship could take a toxic turn.

Just texting started to affect the general mood. My focus. My productivity. My creativity. My relationship with other people. My daily life was falling apart

It made me worried about my well-being. My writing was turning a bit dark, did you notice? I kept trying to explain my feelings about how I communicate with them, and they managed to always find a way to make me feel awful about myself.

I started second guessing myself, feeling like I'm walking on eggshells, anxious about their reactions to every word I say and how they might twist my words into something else. Something evil and negative and inconsiderate and eventually I felt faulted and that they're my helpless victim.

I felt like a horrible friend and that they are - although they admit being imperfect- the better friend because they care more and apparently I don't equally care about their feelings.

Self doubt and guilt emerged and then I realized I just don't want to feel this way anymore. I wanna turn it off. I didn't want that anxiety Every Time we text.

When we chat, I'd be on my toes, anticipating the next time they're going to misinterpret me and make me feel unworthy. Sometimes I felt like I'm just overreacting or I'm being delusional. Like I'm making it all up in my head. Or I'm just being silly and oversensitive.

I've come to that conclusion though: My mental health was at stake.

And that last time we talked I was so sad that I didn't want to refute any accusations. I just hated that I needed to defend myself against their assumptions.

I emailed  saying I'd step back for a while because I didn't want to say the wrong things anymore. And apparently everything I said was the wrong thing. 

A couple of days after the email, they texted again, telling me they just want to ask one question..

I texted one word “sure”.

And the manipulation started.

"I have to make sure you're online first."

it freaked me out for some reason. It felt like I was being manipulated to show up. And be dragged to those arguments again. I was provoked to change my decision. They were luring me to text again out of curiosity to know their question. I didn't want to give them that chance. 

They needed to accept that I didn't want to talk. Period. I hated the feeling that I'm constantly being some test subject. My limits and decisions and values are under the microscope all the time. It made me extremely anxious. On edge. Neurotic.

I was trying really hard not to lose it and the effect of withholding these negative feeling was draining. I felt physically sick. My hands would get cold and shaky and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack.

I still worried that I might be wrong. I hated to misjudge people. I didn't want to be unfair. I wanted to clear my head before I said anything. Because it would probably be a final decision and there would be no turning back.

And it was really difficult for me, probably for anyone, to do that. Deciding to cut someone out of your life. Especially a long time friend. That's like cutting off a part of who you are. A part of your personal history.

I hoped that we could mend things. They were nice and making amends, until the first trigger was pulled. Then we went back to square one.

The main issue, I'd learned, started when I stated that "we have different limits and values."

I thought that was understood and respected, actually.

Mostly it was about them sharing books they liked and I sometimes refused to read their choices for whatever reason.

Because according to them "their horrible choices weren't up to my standards" and that made them feel inferior. Like I was belittling who they are and thinking their beneath me.

They were feeling judged by me for their different choices. I didn't feel or think I was judging. I normally am not a judgemental person. Or maybe I am and I was just fooling myself. I do not know anymore.

But they were determined to share books anyway, and made an extra effort to edit them for me. Whenever I shared my opinions, trying to go along, they got defensive. That was like the last straw before I asked for a break.

And of course I regretted it and felt guilty and apologized a ton of times. So that time after a 5 months break they decided to share another book. Only they decided to edit it,  hide the title, and character names.

According to them, the reason is to protect themselves from “My judgment”. In case I go look up the book and find something that offends me and then feel bad about their 'horrible choices'.

I didn't ask them to share anything but I didn't mind. That's one of my issues. I can hardly say 'no'. Because books were their passion, and somehow mine too, even though I definitely don't read as much and they did. They used book discussions as an emotional release and to have a needed intellectual stimulation. I was game for my friend. I didn't demand it. I thought I was being supportive.

The problem is they were almost always disappointed in my reactions to the book. Also scared of my “alleged” judgement.  They took my opinions personally. Because they made an effort to make the book palatable to me. Even though I never asked for it.

I tried to understand the logic, but it still hurt. It hurt that I was not trusted… It hurt that they wanted to control my knowledge and limit my freedom. It hurt that I was made to be the villain in the story. It hurt because if they didn't trust me with their feelings, then what's the point of our friendship?

I attempted to explain my pain and it was interpreted as me trying to force them not to protect theirs . So I was evil and I dismissed their feelings.

Many of us need these deep connections with words and meaningful discussions to fill some void we might have, but their way of doing this is/was damaging. I don't think they were even aware of the damage.

I needed second opinions. I needed to vent to someone else. I was completely disillusioned. They analyzed every word I said. Looking for double meanings, dissecting my own feelings. And I drowned in humiliation.

It questioned myself and my values. It made me feel as unimportant as a fictional character being analyzed in a bookclub.

This emotionally detached way made me feel like I'm a project. That was why it hurt. I poured my heart out and they shut down their emotions completely.  The conversation became a clinical debate with the sole goal of refuting my claims, and I'd keep defending myself and the vicious cycle never stops.

Traumatized was the right word. And I think I've developed irrational defenses with everyone now. Avoiding people more than I should. Losing interest in lots of things I once loved. Losing trust in people and in myself.  Anticipating bad things when I talk to them.  I'm not myself anymore.

Maybe one day I'll recover. Or realize it was all my mistake. Or that I was the toxic one. But until then, I'll keep going forward. Trying not to look back.

M.B

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*Author note:

Please do not correct my terrible, disordered, emotionally turbulent grammatical mistakes. 😌