When I first started my blog, I knew that I wanted to eventually tackle hard-hitting questions and themes that really delve into the vulnerabilities of our human nature: the light, the darkness, and all the grey areas inbetween. Because we hold not just one phase of the moon in our multiplicity, we carry all of them within us, which is what gives us depth and a true radiance when we honor all facets of our identity.
One of these grey areas is the fine line between being a good friend, and being a good friend to yourself by protecting your mental health.
So then, where is the fine line between being there for a friend who is battling depression, loss, or some other dark phase in their life, offering them the emotional support they need . . . and also maintaining the delicate balance where you don’t cross the boundaries of your own needs, where you don’t drain yourself of energy or have your own vulnerabilities triggered, to be tempted into the same pit of depression?

When you’re there for them, does it mean you have to cross the same abyss alongside their tumultuous journey? That you have to answer their calls at 3 AM to talk them down from a panic attack, or reassure them after a recurring nightmare, or decide on an intervention because they’d locked themselves up in their home for a week without eating much to anything and lying in bed all day? . . . Or do you keep a distance healthy for your mental health, and redirect them to a specialist, a therapist who is trained with the necessary mental and emotional tools to help them back unto their feet, but risk losing their friendship because they feel you weren’t there when they most needed you?
The truth is, there is no wrong or right answer there, as much as we wish there was.
Friendship, as beautiful as it is, does not justify compromising the integrity of our own mental health for the sake of another; that can only be a purely personal choice, and while a noble one at that, it is one which cannot be expected or demanded of someone we love simply because we love them. But even as we become aware of this bitter truth, it doesn’t change the fact that choosing to put a distance between a friend in need, inevitably causes them to feel betrayed and abandoned, especially if they did return the favor when it had been the other way around.

So, how do we navigate this grey space of making a friend feel supported, yet not losing our own selves in the process? I wish there was a one-two-three system of fixes, a guideline, a to-do list, but the problem with grey areas is that they’re never clear, definitive, or objective.
Do we reach out with a compass, redirecting them to more capable hands of a therapist? Do we step down from the comforts of our shelter, to trudge alongside them on their rocky journey, to wrap a blanket around their shoulders when they get cold, or offer a comforting word when they lose faith? Or do we simply watch at a close distance from above, letting them know we’re there every step of the way, in our own way, but their journey is theirs to walk, and we cannot walk it in their stead?
It remains to our latitude to decide what is the best course of action for our particular case, for our particular friend in need. But there is one truth that is undeniable:
Communication is key.
Let your friend know you’re there for them, even if that way is very limited in order to protect your own wellbeing. Let them know they’re not alone. Let them know they’ve not been abandoned. Let them know this is hard for you too if that is the case, and you’re doing your best, but you do love them and will continue to love them no matter how broken they feel right now.
Don’t leave them in the dark, wondering why they’re all alone, why they’re not good enough. Wondering over all the wrong things they did to cause this, or why they don’t deserve anything better.
What’s worse than going through rock bottom alone, is going through it with what they thought were friends, friends that walked away the moment they reached their worst.
Let them know you care.
Beyond that, healing is their responsibility, make no mistake about it.
But it’s your responsibility as a friend to let them know they have your support. It’s your responsibility to make your boundaries clear. And if the friendship is such a toxic one that it endangers your own mental health, it’s your responsibility to yourself to choose you above all, and learn that it’s time to walk away.