Losing Another Friend

Today's post is not about someone unfriending me on Facebook, and no, I didn't lose someone else to suicide.  This topic, however, is as insidious as suicide.  I'm talking about mental illness, and for the last several years, I have been watching a friend slowly lose his mind.  Unfortunately, it may be time to say goodbye.

I've been pondering whether or not to write this article, because I know that he's seen my blog in the past.  In the end I have chosen to write this up because the overall problem of mental illness is more important than the need to protect his feelings.  There are a few close friends and family who will know the subject of today's post, but I am going to sanitize and generalize this to the greatest extent I'm able, in order to protect my subject's anonymity.  I will also count on the discretion of my family and friends to protect his identity.

Things started almost ten years ago, when this friend came to me with disturbing news.  He reported that he had proof that his wife, a daycare provider, was having sex with young children.  I know the wife as well as I know the subject of today's article, and for the record, I never believed the story.  The friend claimed to have an audio recording as proof.  He never offered to play it, and I never asked to hear it.  I did, however, say that if he believed this to be the case, he had a duty to inform law enforcement and to turn over any proof in his possession.  He said that he didn't want to do that... that it was more important that he continue to monitor the situation, for the sake of keeping things stable for his children.

Fast forward several years... he had brought this up again from time to time, but the story grew more elaborate and sinister.  The number of people his wife had seduced or molested continued to grow exponentially,  and he knew that his wife was out to murder him.  She had tried everything from poisoning his food to arranging auto accidents, but God was watching over him, and he always managed to escape by the skin of his teeth.  As you can imagine, he and his wife divorced, and his children have essentially cut him out of their lives.

At one point during this ordeal, his wife had him committed.  I assume that he was on meds for a while, because things quieted down for a time.  Eventually though, he became non-compliant and stopped taking his prescription(s) and now believes that the entire stint in the mental ward was an elaborate attempt by his wife to have him silenced and/or killed.  Again, I want to state that I never believed his story, but I did feel that it was in his best interest to maintain the friendship to the greatest extend I was able.  I would drop by, and we'd talk about nothing.... cars... the weather... how fast the grass was growing... whatever.  Occasionally, things would turn to his (now) ex.  I'd let him speak uninterrupted, neither confirming nor debunking his delusions.  By confirming them, I would reinforce the delusions; by refuting them, I would become an object of his misconception.  In the back of my mind though, I knew that I would eventually be woven in to the web of his psychosis.  I even knew how it would happen.  He would come to the conclusion that I too had sex with his mass murdering, sexually deviant wife.  Sure enough, it happened a couple of days ago.

Interestingly enough, he doesn't blame me for these "indiscretions," he blames his wife exclusively, believing that no guy could possibly be immune to her sick wiles.  He said, "Hell, I'd have done it if I was in your shoes."  He fully expected that I'd own up to this, and that he would magnanimously forgive me, and that things would go back to how they were before the conversation.

When I heard the words come out of his mouth, I was only surprised by the timing, and I did what anyone in my position would do... I explained to him that he was wrong.  Staying true to my choice to not confront his overall delusion, (because, quite frankly, doing so would be beyond my capacity... many others have tried and failed over the years) I did, however, profess my innocence and explained that infidelity is not part of my character.  He clearly didn't believe it.

Toward the end of the conversation, I explained that I understood how he came to believe that I fucked his ex, and affirmed that I held no ill will toward him for coming to the wrong conclusion.  I followed up by saying, "However, if you don't believe me now, after I've told you that I've never slept with her, then we have a problem."  He didn't say it outright, but his noncommittal words and refusal to make eye contact told me that he still didn't believe me.  I followed up by saying, "Look, you don't need to answer right now.  I understand that you need some time to process the new evidence.  If you decide to believe me, then we'll be okay."  His further non-commitment and failure to make eye contact said what his words didn't.  I'm part of his delusion.

If I could find a way, I would continue to be part of his life.  I pity his isolation.  He's not evil, he's sick.  Unfortunately, I'm in a Catch-22.   If I gloss things over, then in his eyes, I am tacitly admitting to an indiscretion that never occurred.  By concluding that it's time to let him go, I'm tacitly admitting to an indiscretion that never occurred.  I know that his accusation is based on a mental illness, but my character will not allow me to continue associating with him, because it would allow him to believe something that is grossly untrue.  It sucks losing another friend.