Got divorced back in 2017. I was a 36 year-old male, no kids, had lived in Texas for a little less than three years. Had some friends there, sure, but didn’t live anywhere near most of my college friends, and by 36, I didn’t have a ton of HS friends left. (Some do, but I wasn’t blessed in this way.) I guess I selfishly kinda figured that some people would care and reach out and ask how I was doing and stuff, but that didn’t really happen at all. Essentially, no one reached out aside from my mom and a few local people. I basically spent most of March 2017 to August 2017 talking to people in bars about their life. While illuminating, I wouldn’t say it was a very good use of my time. Live and learn, ya know?
Well, if I ever remotely tried to call someone on their shit about not reaching out, I got the normal list of excuses:
“So busy with the kids.”
“Busy season at work.”
“Boss is on me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Phones work both ways.”
While all these things are true and logical statements a person can make in times of crisis for another, it’s hysterical to me how we wring our hands about “mental health crisis” and “lack of connection” but then it’s perfectly fine and normal for most people to hide behind these.
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