The truth in friendship

“A friend loves at all times and a brother is born for adversity.” Prov 17:17

Few would disagree that true friendship is a cornerstone of a healthy and well-balanced existence.  Making friends is almost as natural as breathing when we are young, but surprisingly it seems we  lose the ability to bond well with others as we age. Either that, or we choose not to risk it anymore. Yet from those first moments in the corner of the sandpit, to those final arthritic years watching the world pass by from our rocking chairs, a true friendship is more valuable than rubies or gold.  

Friendship it seems, like most ideas, is a sliding scale.  What is considered a good friend to some is but an acquaintance to another. Friendship perhaps, is more a measure of your willingness and ability to pick a good person and be open to their influence. While you will trust a good friend with your car or your possessions, only a true friend will be trusted with your secrets, weaknesses and honesty.  A ‘true’ friend then is something altogether more valuable.

You are lucky if…

My father used to say that if you have one or two true friends in life, then you are lucky.  American Novelist S. E Hinton of The Outsiders fame is credited with saying something similar.  Either way, there is a good deal of ancient truth in that statement.  I’m sure that some loin cloth wearing, prehistoric human, after being saved from a cranky Wooly Mammoth by his buddy, turned to him and said “Geez Ug, you really are a true friend.” I have of course paraphrased the conversation.

In this field I have been lucky then.  I have a small number of people in my inner circle that I would classify as true friends, but thankfully more than two. Some I have known for many years, one  I actually married.  I’m sure many will relate to this.  I could use the old cliché about having to be a good friend to have a good friend, but the truth is I chose well.  

Missing the point

I often feel sad when I hear about ‘A list’ celebrities turning up somewhere with an ‘entourage’.  Usually the report says something like “He was seen entering Club 54 with 157 of his closest friends”. Entourage in reality is just a gossip journalist’s term for what we in Australia would call ‘hangers on’.  The reason I feel sad is probably quite obvious.  They have missed the point about friendship.  If you have a true friend, you don’t need that many others.

I have had many great times with friends over the years.  We have travelled light heartedly to the other side of the world, we often drank very cheap port long into the night whilst singing convivial songs in a basement flat, we have water and snow skied often, attended University together, witnessed each other get married and held each other’s newborn children with a swelling chest and a happy tear.  Many of these types of moments will be familiar to each of you, albeit with your own colourful memories inserted.

A sneaking suspicion

I have a sneaking suspicion though, that while precious, these memories fall into much less significance next to sharing in life’s struggles.  Standing beside your mate, overwhelmed with grief while he buries his father, holding her close after a devastating miscarriage, losing your career unexpectedly, hearing of a devastating diagnosis or being supported after admitting to something embarrassing and painful are examples of experiences that, while repelling some, will actually bond true friends closer.

My own experience with PTSD and Depression has proven one thing.  True friends, like children, don’t really care who you used to be.  They are only concerned with who you are.  When I admitted my mental health diagnosis to them, they didn’t bat an eyelid.  They expressed empathy, offered support and checked up on me regularly.

It isn’t easy

Dealing with a friend who has Major Depression is not easy.  I am not preaching ‘How to be a friend in six easy steps’.  In the midst of pain I would rarely smile, never offer eye contact, constantly turn down offers to socialise and bang on endlessly about how rotten I felt.  Being a true friend to me had its cost. That is why these people mean so much.  They paid that cost without hesitating.

My friends didn’t give up on me.  Bless them, they were all happy to pay that cost. One in particular keeps asking me out, even though I haven’t said ‘yes’ in two years.  One gave me medical advice, another legal support and yet another listened over coffee while I repeated myself ad infinitum.  All of them turned up physically and emotionally whenever I needed them.

So I write today in praise of that rarest of beings, the true friend.  That  loyal and loving character, that Thousandth Man as Rudyard Kipling would call him or her, that person who is willing “To sink or swim with you in any water.”  

Reach out

I am doing well with mental health at the moment and I believe this all boils down to one key decision.  I decided that I would trust a few good people and do what they said.  Not unsurprisingly, I trusted my wife, my Doctor and my Psychiatrist.  I’d like to say that I reached out to my true friends, but it was they that reached out to me.

If you are struggling and have good friends……tell them…..trust them.  If they are anything like mine, they will be there for you.

Evidence of a valuable life » The Good The Bad and The Unrelated