Briefs: or how I found out Iʻd been dumped by a friend.

I had wanted to make this an upbeat post about the great time I had Friday night. Plans to inform the universe of the magnificent laughs and risque fun to be had at the Athaneum on Collins Street in Melbourne. The need to share the buzz created by the hardworking, creative, outrageously sublime team behind Briefs- the stage show. It all just fell by the wayside about ten minutes ago when I realised that not only have I lost friends because of my illness but the opportunity to copy edit a book that will come out early next year. When people say they understand your circumstances when you explain the battle you fight daily, hourly, moment to moment, maybe don’t believe them. Don’t believe they will support you on your journey down the rabbit hole and your eventual crawl out of it. They will forget your agony as soon as you finish admitting there is a problem. They will look to extricate themself as quickly as possible and as they squirm out of the tricky situation that is now your prolapsed friendship, they will wish they had never asked. Adopt a strictly Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy and you will maintain the illusion. Never show your truest self, it will only end badly for you.

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