My toxic, troubled friend is dragging me down

DEAR BEL,

FOR around 17 years, I’ve been close to a woman I met at work. We shared nights out, lunch, theatre trips etc. We shared a wide circle of ten friends. Now everyone has had enough of Sarah, who is becoming increasingly erratic.

Nine years ago, her husband left for another woman. We’ve learned he used to hit her, had a string of affairs and tormented her with mental cruelty. She kept it hidden.

After hearing this, we all said she was well rid of him and young enough (then 39) to rebuild her life.

We cared for her like a sister. Nine years later, her mental health has declined, her finances are dire and her physical health is in danger. She still lives in the same house (in negative equity) and an old heart condition is getting worse.

She’s become a heavy drinker, won’t see a solicitor about divorce for fear of her husband coming back to hit her, won’t sell up for something more affordable, won’t see a doctor.

She appears to have pressed the ‘self-destruct’ button. Gradually friends have dropped away because of the emotional strain. Now just K and I are left to support her (she has no family). But looking after Sarah is harder than looking after our families. All help is rejected. We support her because she is a friend, yet get no friendship back, just heartache.

We’ve offered to see a solicitor with her, go to the doctor, take her to A& E. We’ve arranged counselling, made appointments with charities who might help and at one point even secured a lovely rent-free flat for six months.

Nothing works; we’ve come to an emotional end. It sounds selfish — I’ve had enough. But if I walk away, K would be left to pick up the pieces and I couldn’t do that to her.

With four children, I’ve just started a much-loved job, full-time now the children are older. Yet Sarah takes up most evenings, weekends, phone calls and messages. I speak more to her than to my older children.

I’m frightened that, one day soon, she will be found dead in the house and, for this alone, I can’t walk away. What’s your advice? JENNY

One blunt reader’s response to last Saturday’s second letter is relevant here. A mother, ‘Wendy’, was feeling ‘a failure as a mother’ — worried because her adult daughter was ignoring a dangerous eye condition.

My reply pointed out that in this case surely the daughter’s husband is the key player, and concluded: ‘It’s no longer your job to “fix” her life — but it is his.’

But Suzanne M said: ‘I profoundly disagree with your advice today that it is the husband’s job to fix his wife’s life. We can’t fix anyone’s lives unless they want it themselves! What absolute madness! none of us has that power, not a spouse, not anyone . . .’

now it so happens that I think Suzanne is right. I was just trying to encourage that poor mother to see that she cannot save her daughter from herself.

And the husband should be the one to talk to his wife, but that doesn’t make it his fault if she refuses to listen. Thank you, Suzanne, for that bucket of cold realism!

The trouble with rational truth is that it rarely works in emotional situations. If a friend seems hell-bent on destroying his or her life, the natural response is to try to save them.

Parents watch helplessly when adult children make unsuitable relationships or mess up in other ways, and usually try to offer advice. The mind may tell us that interference is a waste of time, but the heart will go on hoping and trying.

How many of you have been in a similar situation? I know I

have. But there comes a moment when you realise your wellmeaning counsel and direct offers of help (you’ve done everything anyone could suggest) are a waste of time — because the person isn’t listening.

At that point, you have to decide whether the relationship has become so toxic it is actually affecting the quality of your life.

You’ve reached that stage, haven’t you? Your email is full of despair and nobody will blame you. I don’t know what further help you can give somebody who has no wish to help herself and it concerns me this one- way relationship could have a detrimental effect on your family and job.

You and K must discuss this endlessly, going round in circles. You’ve been wonderful friends, so even though my head is telling me that you should walk away, my heart knows you’ll go on trying. It seems obvious that you and K need to agree that maybe one phone call and one visit each per week is enough.

Could you set up a rota to divide the pain and frustration?

It sounds tough, but maybe you need to think about saving each other.