Dear Bel,
I insulted an old friend at drinks the other night and although I apologised on the spot, realising I’d overreacted, I think he’s finished being friends.
It was my treat for a mutual friend’s birthday. She invited two others along, which was fine. We all worked together years ago.
The birthday gal and I are extremely close, but see the others once a year. I like them both. The woman is cheerful and rather modest. The man is enormously overweight — a big, popular personality. His joking and teasing can be edgy.
I knew the evening would revolve around his ceaseless conversation. The spotlight is on him. Although he ribbed me gently, I agreed with many of his initial pronouncements.
But after a round of drinks I realised I wasn’t actually enjoying being around my old talkative friend — and that maybe I haven’t really done so in quite a long while.
Is it possible to like someone, but not enjoy their company?
No one else could get a word in. Growing angry, I asked one of the women something about her life. He looked affronted at the interruption. I told him he was dominating the evening (dinner still loomed) and that he was getting on my nerves.
He announced that he was leaving. The women were shocked. I apologised, blaming tiredness. He said he’d stay but not talk!
I said: ‘Ignore me, you have every right to speak — and I love you.’ We hugged and the evening progressed, I acted like I was having fun. I wasn’t. I was furious with myself.
The next day, both women told me privately they were glad I had spoken to our friend. But I wasn’t glad. I emailed him saying I respect him and felt sorry and hoped we had patched it up. But he never replied.
Why am I so guilt-ridden? I did apologise. I don’t really want to spend time with this chap after all; once a year is enough.
But I can’t stand that I hurt him or that he might not like me. He ribs me about being gay and having white hair. (I have never insulted his weight). But his teasing never made me dislike him before. I think about this mistake day and night. What’s wrong with me?
DANIEL
This week Bel advises a reader who insulted their mate on a night out, and now fears their friendship is over
Most of us know that feeling: you wake at 3.30am, churning your own words round and round in your mind and wishing you could unsay them.
Or seething that you failed to say what was really on your mind. Or wishing you hadn’t sent that awful email — which is far worse than hasty words. Over and over, you rehearse situations, wishing in vain to change things.
What can be done? Nothing. Words once said cannot be unsaid — and if hurtful will never be forgotten.
On the other hand, some people go through life never telling the truth or standing up for themselves. That can turn you into a doormat. If a friend was being very rude to others, would you say so? I admit it’s hard — but sometimes you must be honest.
More from Bel Mooney for the Daily Mail…
It sounds as if you have suppressed irritation with this chap for many years and it just erupted that night. Yes, it would have been better if you’d said nothing, yet the two women agree with you. Perhaps all of you have passively indulged his massive ego for years. It might have been better to talk to him frankly before.
I know it’s hard. Here is another letter, from a lady I’ll call Sue, complaining about the friend she took to an over-60s social group: ‘I am becoming increasingly annoyed because she constantly interrupts when someone is talking . . . jumps in with her own thoughts . . . it really is constant. Hardly anyone can speak without her interrupting and saying something. I have tried to carry on talking over her, to no avail.’
Her question is: ‘How can I broach this subject with her without hurting her feelings or falling out with her?’
She might also echo your thought about not enjoying a friend’s company. (I have exactly the same problem with one of my own chums).
But there’s a sadness here. Sue’s friend is driving her mad, and probably making all the others want to avoid her company. Yet the most damage she is doing is to herself. People who talk incessantly will probably end up lonely because gradually others will avoid them.
So perhaps your overweight friend with the sharp sense of humour is actually miserable and isolated. Perhaps he ‘ribs’ you about being gay and having white hair (really?) because he’s jealous — and aware that only seeing you once a year must be for a reason. That’s my sympathetic take on the situation.
My unsympathetic interpretation is that he has an ego as huge as his waistline and no interest at all in anybody else. So he is either deeply hurt or deeply affronted by your blurt of honest irritation.
What would have happened if you — and my other reader Sue — had sat down with your respective friends years ago and hinted that hogging conversation does them no favours?
I don’t think it’s ever too late to try to explain gently that other people can feel left out by a superb talker who is more confident . . . so, hey, just let them have a go.
Put that way it’s not so critical, you see? Now, if I were you I’d stop blaming yourself for being truthful, try to shrug it off, and hope he recovers in time for next year.
Help! My toddler is a terrible sleeper
Dear Bel,
My problem is not one of your ‘usual’ issues but I really am at my wits’ end and exhausted.
The problem is my 19-month-old toddler still won’t sleep through the night despite me trying everything.
She was a much-wanted child for me in my mid-30s (her father is not in the picture, but my parents are both involved and supportive), and while I initially struggled with the sleep deprivation bringing her home as a newborn, I fully expected it.
But nearly two years on nothing has changed. She has never slept through the night since the day she was born. The most I’ve got her to sleep is three hours, once. There is nothing physically wrong with her. I was told I’d just have to put up with it. My GP and health visitor have been rather useless.
My parents have been wonderful, taking her out in the mornings so I can catch up on sleep then.
Other than this, she’s a happy child — well adjusted and meeting all her milestones.
But it’s really affecting me, as I’m permanently exhausted and have had to put off going back to work (which I really wanted to do when she turned 15 months) as I’m in no state.
It’s getting me down, as I can’t see any light at the end of the tunnel and the thought of another year or more like this is just too depressing to contemplate. Any advice?
ANNIE
Oh dear, so stressful! The more tired and worried you are, the worse the whole situation will become.
It’s an exhausting cycle of deprivation because you and your child both desperately need sleep. So many new/newish mothers become emotionally and physically exhausted and need help. Thank goodness you have understanding parents.
You gave lengthy details about her routines, which I’ve no space for. But I think even one nap at one and a half hours is too long. I’d put her in the cot after lunch for 30 minutes, then wake her and make sure there is plenty of physical play in the afternoon.
I also consider her 8.30pm bedtime too late. She should have a playful bath at 6ish, then stories and a steady quietening down before bed by 7pm.
Have you tried the bedtime routine on BabyTV? It might create a good sleepy habit. Your anxiety also has to be tackled because a baby will always sense it. Try hypnotherapy for calming reassurance of why you wanted this child.
I’d also add (as a mother and grandmother) that you may have to tolerate some crying. Meanwhile, here are some words from my wise daughter-in-law, Aimee, who has two of her own: ‘After a calm bedtime you need to put some music on (or white noise) and switch out all lights and have a cuddle. After a few minutes (or less) lie her in her cot and just be there as she is lying down — no rubbing or patting. If she keeps standing up just lie her down and say a simple phrase like, “It’s sleepy time”.
‘Repeat this every time she stands up. As the nights go on, the process should get shorter until you should be able to walk straight out of the bedroom. I make sure the bedroom is dark and very little light enters the room, even when I leave.
‘Do exactly the same process when she wakes up at night as when she went to bed: enter the bedroom, pop the same music/lullaby on, lean in the cot with a reassuring hand — but do not rub her back to sleep.
‘Try to move away while reassuring her you are still there. As she gets more used to it, if she does wake, give her a couple of minutes before going in, as she could just be having a sleepy cry. Don’t speak to her in the night, as this makes a toddler more alert.’
Aimee hopes that helps a little — and so do I.
And finally… It’s time to dust off your old trainers
Did you hate games and gym? I did. Then all my life I proclaimed that exercise was boring. What an idiot! For in 2005, at the age of 59, I joined a gym and changed the habit of a lifetime. Why? Because I suddenly saw myself as an old biddy puffing and blowing as I walked upstairs — and it wasn’t a good look.
That’s why I’m glad to read about the initiative launched by Health and Social Care Secretary Matt Hancock.
Called the National Academy for Social Prescribing, it aims to steer patients away from pills and towards activities such as gardening, running, singing, dance, art and so on. At last!
Writing this column leaves me in no doubt that we have an epidemic of inertia, sadness, loneliness and anxiety.
Often readers confess they eat and drink too much — and then they put weight on, which feeds the cycle of helpless gloom. But it can be defied and defeated. You must believe that.
Matt Hancock wants social prescribing to become a major part of routine GP appointments to stop people being over-medicalised. If you are bereaved, for example, you don’t need a pill to deaden that sorrow, you need to work your way through it, understanding what’s happening — and do everything to keep yourself active as well.
Easier said than done? Well, of course, but the whole point is that we need to make an effort to help ourselves and realise that doctors (and friends) can help. Even if that means gentle persuasion.
People are less active than they were in the Sixties and the resulting health problems put a tremendous strain on the NHS. It doesn’t have to be like that. Yes, we can turn to the NHS for help, but we also have a responsibility to ourselves.
That’s what I decided in 2005, and now I exercise (Pilates and gym workout) twice a week.
Honestly, I never want to — but always feel better afterwards. Do it! Take charge of your life, and exercise mind and body.