Article
Losing friends feels a bit like losing part of yourself. But unlike romantic break ups, we don’t really talk about the impact of friendship breakups in the same way. Especially for those of us who are disabled and chronically ill. Because for the most part, we tend not to have the energy or accessibility to go out and make social connections—at least, I don’t! As an autistic, chronically ill, multiply disabled, incredibly anxious person, I really, really treasure and love my friends, particularly when I’ve had so many bad experiences in the past. And it means even more when we share certain lived experiences, and can just understand. It’s such a magical, beautiful feeling.
I’ll admit: I don’t have a lot of close friends. I lost a lot of friends when I became disabled and chronically ill, especially as a wheelchair user. Hanging out with me and making plans that considered my access needs was just seen as “too much”. Slowly, I just stopped getting invited to things, before they stopped contacting me all together—despite my multiple attempts.
Of course, I still have treasured friends. But because of a combination of life, disability, accessibility, and lack of energy, it’s not often we get to hang out. Maybe a few times a year. And I’ll admit, it can feel pretty damn lonely.
So, when I connected with another disabled, autistic, chronically ill person, it was such a game-changer. It was so validating to be able to talk about things together, like our lived experience, or experiences with ableism and discrimination. And we became super close. We hung out together. We body doubled together to get tasks done. We went to events. We did our nails while watching really bad movies and eating delicious snacks. I didn’t just feel like I’d found a friend. I felt like I’d found part of my chosen family, which meant the absolute world to me.
But unfortunately, like any friendship, disabled friendships can end too. And it’s even more confusing when they end suddenly, without even a word.
At least with most romantic breakups, you get to actually break up. You usually talk, get an explanation, and are both informed about the decision. But with friendship breakups, there are no rules. You don’t usually get that cathartic release. In fact, in my experience, friendships usually end with one person ghosting, just pretending like the other never existed. And that is such a gut-wrenching experience.
Because you painfully wonder: what have I done wrong? What could I have done better? What if I’d done this instead? Why does this keep happening? Am I just so awful and impossible to be around that I’ll never have a friend again? What is wrong with me?
You can’t help but internalise. And because I’m someone with a complex mental illness, I tend to get really depressed, filled with self-hatred, grief, and guilt for existing.
But here’s the thing: ghosting usually isn’t about you.
People ghost because they feel like it’s easier for them. Maybe they’ve had bad experiences in the past of trying to explain things, so they just don’t to it at all anymore. Maybe it’s hard for them to find the words, or accept something. Or maybe there are a hundred other reasons we will never know.
It can be really hard to accept you often won’t know why. But it’s not worth torturing yourself over answers you won’t get. Sometimes the best thing you can do, despite the hurt, is to love them and let them go.
Love them, for the good times.
And let them go for the sake of your mental well-being now.
I tried to repair things with this friend, but was once again met with that maddening, echoing silence.
When something like this happens, you might feel hurt. Angry. Frustrated. You might want to write them a letter. Text them. Call them. But the best thing you can do in this scenario is talk to someone you trust. If not a friend or loved one, a therapist can be a great option too. They can validate your experiences, and give you a chance to work through the feelings you might not have gotten to if your friendship ended with ghosting. And they can remind you you’re not a terrible person, and you’re worthy of love.
Of course, you can reach out to your ex-friends. I did. Either way, whether you get a response or not, it can be incredibly painful.
Finding ways to get your feelings out is a great way to manage. Maybe you might write a poem, a song, create art, or scream into the oblivion. Writing a letter can be helpful for you, even if it’s just a way for you to get your emotions on a page: you don’t have to send it.
But in the end, it’s all about acceptance.
We can’t control everything. And life is filled with painful experiences. But it’s also filled with lessons. We lose friends, but we can also make them too.
And maybe every bad friend leaving our lives makes room for someone better.