I always have lots of posts rattling around in my head. Sometimes it takes me a long time to get to them. Other times topics come to mind and I feel an urgency to write about them. This is one of those topics. This topic has come up in a few different ways including in correspondence with a friend. I feel compelled to write about this even though I never even considered broaching on my blog. My guess is that God means it for someone out there either today or at some point in the future.
The topic is friends who retreat when they are hurting.
Different people handle difficulties in different ways. Some people need to talk things out. Others busy themselves to avoid thinking about issues. Some people will surround themselves with people, feeling more secure with the multitudes. In each of these situations, the person is still fully engaged in the flow of normal life and those around her are minimally impacted by her choices.
There are others who retreat. And the more they are hurt or overwhelmed by life, the further they retreat. While they may talk to a select few in their lives about their pain or issues, they generally pull back from those around them as they seek to deal with whatever is bothering them.
- They may skip church some weeks because the thought of being around that many people is overwhelming.
- They may choose not to participate in family activities.
- They may miss Bible studies because they don’t have the emotional energy to attend and participate.
This can be confusing to the people around them, especially those whose natural bent is to think that if a person is hurting then they need their friends and, more specifically, the church.
A friend (we’ll call her Elizabeth) wrote to me recently asking for my insight about a situation with a friend (we’ll call her Jane) who had just kind of stopped communicating with her and then had written out of the blue after a number of years. Jane told Elizabeth that she had been going through some very hard times and had needed to take some time. It had nothing to do with Elizabeth at all. Jane still valued Elizabeth’s friendship. But she had gone through a period of retreating to cope with things going on in her life.
When I read Elizabeth’s letter, it made complete sense to me what Jane had done. It made sense to me because I am the same way. During some of my most difficult times in life I have had periods of retreat where I wanted no one except David and my parents. I didn’t love my friends and other family members any less. I wasn’t at odds with them. I simply had to retreat in the midst of the difficulty.
I suspect that this is hard for some people to understand and I’m not going to say it is necessarily the best way to handle things. But I do understand it and recognize it when it happens.
To the non-retreater, it might feel like your friend has dropped you. It is true that your friend could have moved on. But if there isn’t any reason to think that there is a problem between the two of you, it could simply be that your friend needs some time to pull away and deal with whatever is going on in her life.
So how can someone be a friend to someone who retreats? A few things come to mind.
First, accept that this is the way your friend copes. You don’t have to agree with it or completely understand it to still love and accept her.
Second, don’t pressure your friend to talk about it or try to shame her into engaging in normal life activities. This only adds to the stress with which she is already dealing. Be patient and give her time and space.
Third, encourage her in a way that lets her know you care about her as a friend but that doesn’t pressure her. Send her a card or a note that says you are thinking of her. Tell her you miss her and value her friendship. When she is feeling ready to reconnect again, she will be very happy to do so with you.
Fourth, and most importantly, pray for her. People who retreat only retreat when they are really hurting or going through substantial emotional and/or spiritual turmoil. Pray that the Lord will speak to her during this time and heal her in the midst of the situation.
A Little Book of Poems and Prayers | Homeschooling with Cozy Books
Great Post! Sallie, we both know what this is like. Like you, I retreat. I just want my hubby, Tom, and a few close friends/family around me. In some respects, this is due to the experiences I’ve had in the past when others didn’t understand my situation. Comments made, words which hurt, all combine to make me just retreat to a few because I know I can trust them to honor my situation, and to honor my choice of behavior.
Our family has had seasons of faith stretching. Most of our dear ones did understand our ‘retreating’ mode. However, there were some who did not understand, nor wanted to (or at least it felt like it at the time) understand. There is also the issue of not being able to live life as you once did when something like unemployment comes along. Or health issues. You cannot spend money, nor have the good health, to participate in activities as you once did.
These times test all of us. How we respond to those we love most reveals our heart, and our character.
I have been on both sides of this, specifically when dealing with loss and grief.
I have a friend who retreated after her husband died. I try so hard to keep in touch, but I am coming to the conclusion I am not what she needs right now. I try to check in every month or two, but I am get the cold shoulder If I call she doesn’t pick up, if I email, she says I’ll call you.
On the other hand, I have been on the other side, after losing my father. And I retreated and even lost some a friend or two after that. Why? Some of them came off as downright insensitive with some of their actions and words. I also just didn’t have the energy. It was all I could do to keep up with my husband at that time.
It’s also important though, when a friend retreats, to be honest and not let yourself get hurt by them repeatedly. It could be that they just aren’t that into you anymore. Also, there are still rules for those in retreat, such as RSVPing when invited, not standing people up, not canceling at the very last minute.
I wish that those in “retreat” could be honest with those people who care about them. We seem to be good at breaking things off with love interests in our culture, we have a language and protocol for that. But we are not so good with communication in our friendships.
I’m a retreater.
I have had a difficult last 3 years. . . lots of debilitating morning sickness with two pregnancies, a complicated twin pregnancy where we had to deal with TTTS and months of bedrest, preemie twins in the NICU, lots of anxiety, a weariness like none I’ve ever experienced, etc. I withdrew because I was overwhelmed and so anxious that I needed to only be required to focus on God and my family. It took too much energy to “entertain” or to be sensitive to the feelings of friends. It really has been that overwhelming.
Sometimes even the most well-meaning friends don’t realize they might be playing the martyr. . . i.e. “I came to visit you and did this and that for you, but you are treating me like I’m invisible. Why can’t you acknowledge me? You’re hurting my feelings!” But it happens. Quite often.
Sometimes well-meaning friends unintentionally say the wrong things. The retreater, from my experience, tries to avoid this by disconnecting communications. I cut off visits to my bedside (at home and the hospital), limited phone calls to my closest family members or friends who seemed to understand, and I refused a lot of help. Communication can complicate things.
The retreater may be experiencing a situation that others around her may not ever have experienced. TTTS is not common, and people don’t know what it is. Some people treated me as if what I was experiencing was nothing and that my babies and I would be perfectly healthy in the end. They didn’t know what it is like to face the uncontrollable possibility of the deaths of my otherwise healthy babies for weeks on end. . . Friends just saw me in bed watching TV and being served at the bedside anything I desired. On numerous occasions, such things were said:
“You must feel like a queen getting to be served like this.”
“I’m jealous. I wish I was on bedrest!”
“All these things are being done for you. You can spend your time writing thank you notes and sewing!” (Uh, not while I’m laying on my side and so nervous I can hardly hold a pen or think straight.)
“You get to catch up on your sleep.”
I was made to feel like a captive audience by visitors and well-meaning friends who thought they were doing me a favor. They simply did not understand. So it was best to retreat and cut them off. They did not realize how little control I had over my situation. Some of my friends thought I was being snobby to never answer the phone, return calls, or to request they not visit.
I wasn’t being snobby. I was overwhelmed and did not want to open the door to more hurt and anxiety.
I appreciated:
– simple cards that did not preach to me, but instead were encouraging
– notes from friends about the funny things going on in their lives, their trips, etc. as if they were penpals. . .
– simple notes that say, “I love you, I’m thinking of you” but no pressure or expectations to return the notes or sentiments at any time
– prayer (and esp. if someone said, “What can I pray for you?”)
– little gestures like small gifts with no strings attached
– people who cared but did not have to be in my business all the time
– people who did not take it personally that I was retreating and viewed it as normal
– people who did not treat me like an anomaly. . . I think retreating is sometimes a necessary and normal coping mechanism. It helps one to see the most important things in life, and I do not think best-friendship is one of the top three most important things in life.
Anyways, just some random thoughts on the matter.
Honestly, I’m still in retreat mode after over a year of it. Other people, even friends, can make things more tangled, and there are times in life that we ought to remember that exercising the right to retreat is normal and okay.
Don’t ignore the retreater altogether, but give them space, time, prayers and written notes every so often. Don’t get insulted and take it personally as you may be making a fool of yourself. . . You just don’t understand until you’ve walked in someone else’s shoes why they may be retreating.
I’m a retreater so I can answer on that side…
When I’m hurt I tend to retreat because of that old saying “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” I retreat to avoid lashing out, saying something dumb, and hurting anyone else when I am hurting.
Also, I am a very introverted person when it comes to thinking. I need to be alone to process and think things through. There is a misconception that outgoing people are not introverts. I’m very outgoing, but when I need to process or rejuvenate, I like to be alone.
As for staying away from church, that is easy for me to tell you about. I have been staying away from church for a long time. When you are down, you don’t need or want people telling you that you must have “sin in your life” causing your depression. The church doesn’t treat these things as kindly as they do cancer or heart disease. When I was dx’ed with lupus years ago, an elder told me it was because I had unconfessed sin in my life. I was mortified and deeply hurt.
So people like me, introverts, tend to stay away from church when we’re hurting. We don’t particularly want pity, and religious pity is the worst of all pity there is.
Em, your post reminded me of my second pregnancy experience where I had to physically retreat. I had debilitating nausea with my entire second pregnancy. The. Whole. Time.
Nothing like what you experienced, but I had a hard time with my friends and even some family. People did not understand what I was going through and if one more person told me to try some crackers…argh.
So I retreated, because the only thing that mattered was getting through it. Day by day by day. Hour by hour in some instances.
Some of my local friends didn’t understand that I just couldn’t attend the things we used to do, like playgroups and our book club and dinners out. I was open and honest about it, but some of them still took it personally, as if I was lying, and I did lose one friend over it.
It was also surprising, the people I thought would be the most understanding and cool weren’t. And the people who I wouldn’t have expected to be understanding, were.
I’m also a retreater. Married to an aggressive non-retreater. I completely agree with Normal Middle. part of the reason I retreat is so I won’t speak out of my hurt, and spread the pain around.
I have a dear friend who got a divorce several years ago. DH is always telling me I need to invite her to this and that, and go out for coffee with her. But she is a retreater. and she asked that we not do that. she has a support team of two-three other women who’ve been through what she has, and can understand her hurt. I pray for her. smile and hug when she’s in church (just smile if she doesn’t give encouragement for the hug) and drop a notecard in the mail from time to time. I image one day she’ll have the emotional energy to have regular freindships again. but right now, she’s still healing.
Em, Bedrest is horrible. all these people telling you they wish the doctor would put them on bedrest (oh aren’t you lucky!), and you’re thinking “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy! Leave me alone, I’m trying to save my baby here!!”
another reason for retreat is sometimes I don’t know how I feel yet. it takes me a long time to put words and sometimes emotions to stressful events. I say I’m a percolator. I don’t react right away. it took me 5 months to emotionally react to 9/11 it was January when I started having nightmares, and waking up in tears. it was nearly the same number of months before I started really grieving for my grandmother.
its like I have an emergency shutoff switch for my emotions, postponing all emotions until well after the event. giving me time to retreat, and truly feel what I’m feeling, without the imediacy of the event, or other people’s needs getting in the way.
For me, I struggled for many years with depression on top of social phobia. It was hard to have any social life and make friends in the first place, so retreat was really very much my normal life. That’s much less the case now, but I still don’t have any close local friends, and it’s not a big deal if I drop out for a while.
I think that this is also part of the reason that I prefer home birth–in labor, I want to shut myself in my cozy den and be left mostly alone. My midwife spends a lot of time in prenatal appointments developing a relationship with her clients, so I feel fairly comfortable allowing her in to help. I can just picture myself at the hospital with nurses trying to push a lot more “care” and “support” on me than I want or need. I would probably try to lock myself into the bathroom!
what a lovely post and so timely. I’ve been dealing with a friend who is a retreater for the last couple of years. She and I have been trying to figure out how to reconnect after harsh words were spoken and really just how to be friends when how we friend is so very different.
Your encouragement and pointers were perfect and bless you for being open and sharing from your heart.
Amazing post.
I’m a retreater. Which I know must be absolutely confounding to my friends, because I’m so socially engaged when things are going fine, or even when they’re just okay or even slightly not-so-good. When true crises hit, though, I run for cover and can only let in a VERY few people. Sometimes I don’t even choose those people — they sort of choose me because they are either available or they know just what to say given the specific situation at hand. I think I’ve probably hurt some feelings in the past, but absolutely unintentionally, because this is simply who I am and how I cope, like you say. And I’ve had to do some serious fence-mending, but the friends who are real friends will forgive and move on with you, even if they don’t understand the retreating behavior.
Thanks for the post!
Thank you so much, ladies, for all of the excellent points you raised. You really added a great deal to my post and I’m thankful for the perspectives of others to add to my thoughts. I related to many of your specific comments.
A few of them got me thinking further about how in our society we really don’t allow people to grieve, process or otherwise heal. We expect that people can just “snap out of it” at will and if they would only exert a little effort they could easily overcome anything. Making the choice to try to take time to heal emotionally is somehow seen as selfish or unnecessary, which is really unfortunate.
I could also relate to what several of you shared about retreating being a means of protecting yourself from unhelpful people. We experienced this at our previous church shortly after Caroline was born. We turned to someone very appropriate for help with something (unrelated to Caroline) about six weeks after she was born and were totally humiliated by the way the person responded. I am rarely blindsided by something, but to this day I can still feel the shock I felt when this person responded to us. It sent us into major retreat mode at church (there were other factors as well) and that was the beginning of the end there. We never felt comfortable there again.
Still thinking about all your good insights… 🙂
Sallie, I can’t believe you wrote about this today! I am definitely a retreater; when things are going wrong I need time to process the circumstances around me. Sometimes after I’ve processed those things for awhile, I come to peace through my time alone with the Lord and no longer feel the need to talk about it all. I think of Mary in the Bible when it says “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” We know the outcome of what Mary experienced, and she knew it was wonderful, but it had to be overwelming and somewhat fearful for her.
Anyway, I have a dear friend who can talk for hours and hours about every event in her life, good or bad. She has become increasingly frustrated with me b/c I don’t do the same. I lost someone very dear to me a few months ago, and she was very frustrated b/c I didn’t share all the details. I told her what had happened, but I just wasn’t ready to talk in depth about it. From her perspective, she would have called me immediately and told me everything, but I tend to think through all those things. I also tend to retreat when I’m hurt and at times I withdraw b/c I know my reaction may not be best, and I’d rather wait until I can say the right thing. Anyway, I’ve come to the point that I know I need to sit down with my friend and honestly tell her how I am b/c even though we’ve been close for years, I’m so different from her that I just don’t think she understands how or why I react to different situations. For weeks, I’ve been praying about what to say to her. I actually am somewhat fearful that she’s just going to say I’ll need to find a friend who understands better how to be my friend. So, I’ve really committed to praying that the Lord would give me the words to say and that He would be glorified in the end result.
I agree with someone else’s comment that so often we are just not honest in our friendships. I appreciate this post; it was thought provoking.
This is VERY GOOD, dear Sallie. I think you’ve really touched on something important here. I’m 50 and a voracious reader of Christian books, yet never seen this topic addressed in print.
As a person who probably tends to retreat this was helpful: I haven’t been able to explain my behavior to friends, as I haven’t understood it myself. As a person whose friends have sometimes retreated, this helps me see that it’s not my fault.
I would love to see more on this subject. Please pray and see if God has any more for you to say.
Sallie, I was so bowled-over by your post that I forgot to tell you how much I appreciated it. This is a topic worth pursuing.
Right now, I’m seeing a trend in our church. The congregation members having gone through a rough time, grieving for the death of a loved one, or just grieving for any of many reasons are starting to leave our church. Having been through a trying time myself, I really think we are not ministering effectively and with sensitivity to the brokenhearted in our pews. I’ll refrain from writing out my criticisms here, but it’s been eye-opening enough that I feel God pulling me in the direction of ministering to people in these “retreat”-type situations. I found a bit about the Stephen Ministries online that spoke to me. I honestly think that as a whole, we don’t understand how to minister to the grieving in our own pews. Each congregation needs individuals who are trained in dealing with these situations instead of relying on “well-meaning” friends solely.
Even the most well-meaning friends need to know and understand that the retreater is only burdened further when he/she is expected to use precious energy to write thanks or express feelings to the friend. When the friend expects anything in return, he/she adds a burden to the retreater who is already overwhelmed and grieving. Does that make sense? If you give someone a gift. . . truly make it a gift and do not expect anything in return. That sort of gift and ministry will bless the retreater and the giver, and he/she will remember it and be uplifted. But if you expect something in return – even communication, you can bet your bottom dollar that you will be seen as a nuisance friend and the person you think you are helping may retreat even further from you. Expecting something in return will render your gift and ministry crippled.
More personal experience:
When I was on bedrest for 13 weeks with three other small children and a husband to worry about, an elderly woman in my church started ministering to me. I didn’t even know her except to say “hi” on occasion passing her in the church hallway. She didn’t call on the phone, but instead, she started sending me cards at least once a week. The first few cards were just encouraging. I told my husband to tell her thank you when he saw her at church, and he did. But she told him not to worry about thanking her. . . she just wanted me to know that she would continue praying for us. Then the most entertaining letters began to arrive always with a little bit at the end, “You do not have to write me back. I love you and am thinking of you!”
By the end of my bedrest, I thought this woman was amazing. Other people did nice things for me, but her’s were totally with no strings attached. She truly was sacrificing and expecting nothing in return. She redefined friendship for me and made me realize that friendship is not this soap opera drama with all the give and take we think we deserve. A true friend is more like Jesus – not holding us hostage to expectations of communication or duty. It’s up to us.
When I finally returned to church with the twins after all those months, the first person I sought out to hug and share the babies with was my friend Mary who wrote those letters and prayed for me with no strings attached. She never has made me feel like I owe her anything.
So well-meaning friends, please do not take on the martyr syndrome and expect ANYTHING, not even communication, from your hurting, retreating friend. Time, prayer, and persevering love and patience are your best ministry tools in those situations. Do not think of yourself.
I wonder if most of us who are retreaters, also feel more comfortable communicating in a written, rather than spoken format.
perhaps one reason this subject has not been thoroughly addressed, is because we who are most familiar with it, have not yet had a forum in which we feel comfortable discussing it.
Thanks Sallie
Mrs N
You pretty much summed up my whole weekend.
This has been a hot topic in my house because I retreat for several months out of the year. We had some snow here over the weekend and I did the very things you mentioned (stayed home from church, canceled Bible study, etc.). My husband was upset with me, but no one understands how difficult it is for me to cope on those gray, miserable days.
I ended up going to the doctors yesterday to discuss seasonal depression and started some medication when I got home. I know you’ve talked about dealing with SAD, Sallie, and I just wonder if you notice a lot of “retreat” days in the winter?
Sorry I haven’t had time to respond yet today – I’ve had appointments and such. I will respond later this evening and also answer your question, Jen.
What. a. day. Whew!
You’ve all shared some great insights as to situations and struggles faced by people who retreat. I wonder how often when people leave a church (to use Em’s example) they are further wounded by the fact that no one seems to care when they leave. It is hard enough to make a decision to leave a church. But when you leave and no one seems to even care much… It is heartbreaking in so many ways. And yet because the church has developed such a consumer mentality, people just accept that it is normal for people to drift in and out of church. Or, they think that the people who left are just “problem people” with “issues” so it really doesn’t matter if they leave anyway. After all, who want to deal with them and their “issues” any longer? They aren’t worth the bother!
Jen – Oh, I do know what you are talking about. Maybe not exactly since we are all different, but I do understand to at least some degree. I’m glad you were able to see your doctor and I hope you will find some relief through the medication.
As for do I retreat more during the winter… Yes, I think so although I also do during the summer SAD as well. There are Sunday mornings we wake up and I tell David I simply cannot face going to church that day. Usually when that happens, we take a drive somewhere since it isn’t that I don’t want to leave the house. It is that I don’t want to deal with people. So we might take a drive out to Lake Michigan or through the orchards in the area and go out for an early lunch. Part of me feels guilty for doing it since I know it is important to be in church. But I always feel refreshed afterward and I don’t feel that way when I force myself to go to church and I’m not up to it. And, yes, I do understand about the Bible study too. I quit our Bible study in February last year because I just did not have the energy or the mental ability to keep up. The worst thing about the SAD for me is the mental fogginess. It is awful for someone who thinks and writes for a living to be mentally foggy day after day. And trying to keep up with a Bible study on top of that? No way.
I love this topic! I too am a retreater, and when things are really horrible I mostly drop off the face of the planet. I talk to my mother less than once a week, avoid phone calls, and stop reaching out at all. I want to highlight something that has not been brought up… sometimes a person retreats because what is happening is so intensely personal, and perhaps even produces such feelings of shame, that she cannot share at all. I’ve gone through this as my husband struggled with a sinful pattern of behavior, where I felt I could not share lest I shame him, could not lean on anyone because *I* felt ashamed, and could not expend the energy to put on a “face” for any social purpose. The best friends I’ve had in this horrible time of crisis have been the ones who have reached out without demands or questions. Especially the questions. Once I was able to say something vague like “my husband is going through counseling and everything is changing”, the two women who were the biggest support to me simply listened and *did not ask for any additional information*. That enabled me to share as I was able and felt the need, and eventually they became my link to sanity and an example of God’s love to me in a very, very dark time. I guess my point is that people need to learn that encouragement and support do not require details if the hurting person does not volunteer them. God knows what that person needs, and a person praying does not necessarily need to “pray intelligently” as I’ve heard it put. We can just pray, and allow the Holy Spirit to intercede.
BTW, a million thanks to David who fixed the “I lost my comments because I forgot the spam question” issue!!! I don’t think I could have retyped that last comment if it had been lost to internet oblivion. Thank you, David!
I’ve been struggling for over a year with a reoccurance of agoraphobia and panic. Not to mention (okay, i’m mentioning it!) migraines and age-related hormonal difficulties.
All I want to do is retreat.
It is much easier for me to write about than to talk about.
And, for months now, going somewhere public – like church – is not possible.
So, what I’m hearing is that I am not the only one who feels like this?
What do you do with friends who retreat and then later attack you for not being a good friend?
I had a good friend from college who went through an incredibly difficult time a few years ago. Her fiance broke off their engagement a few weeks before the wedding. We were already planning to fly across the country for the wedding, so we still made the trip and spent most of the day with her. Later that year she moved to our area of the country, a couple hours away, and several times she came to stay with us. We kept up our friendship long distance in between. I knew she was also going through a tough time with a church split in her new home. One weekend she was due to visit and when she hadn’t arrived on time, we called to make sure she was okay. She said she just couldn’t handle seeing old friends and wasn’t coming. We called a few days later to follow up. She told us not to call her again…she would call us when she was ready. We respected that, though we were very puzzled. I did once leave her a message letting her know we were expecting a baby and that she didn’t need to call back, I just wanted to let her know. My husband sent her a brief message one time that was basically, “We miss you, old friend.”
Out of the blue, she sent us a long, angry letter telling us what terrible friends we had been! We thought we were respecting her request by not contacting her, but apparently she decided we had “abandoned her.”
I never responded to that…I never knew how. She made a lot of untrue accusations.
I truly would love to hear from people who are prone to retreat…how do you respond to a friend who comes out of retreat only to attack those who were trying to be good friends?
I DID need to read this. Thanks for posting.
To #21
Getting angry afterwards, interesting. That’s kind of unusual for retreaters to do, I must say. Usually, the friends get mad at the retreater, not the other way around.
My unofficial theory is that this friend did not really retreat. When one retreats, one does not want attention. Attention is tiring, overwhelming. Retreaters appreciate people checking in once in a while in an easy, non-demanding way, but that’s it.
Sounds like she really was crying out for attention with her actions. That’s the opposite of retreating.
I would just be honest with her, and explain your side of the story, if care enough to try to make this better. It sounds like her version of reality is not the same as yours, so you may not get too far. Good luck.
In response to Becky M.’s comment:
I’ve had an experience with a friend who did the almost exact thing. I don’t really know what happened, other than maybe being able to only give full attention to one person at a time and the other friends are sort of left hanging? That is what I came up with. But we are trying to mend and move forward and for that I’m thankful.
Becky: Any chance your friend could’ve been suffering from some mental difficulties? Perhaps she experienced some post-traumatic stress from the break-up, laid low for awhile to nurse her wounds, and then finally exploded from keeping it all in. I know it’s a lot easier said than done, but don’t take it personally. I had an engagement fall through unexpectedly and it was an incredibly low time. I was embarrassed, hurt, angry, confused, betrayed and didn’t leave my apartment for six months. I sought help from a counselor and was told I was dealing with post-traumatic stress. And honestly, when you’re that low, it’s difficult to be happy for people who are going through happy times. You said you were expecting a baby and, no doubt, in a secure, loving marriage. That was probably hard for her to see. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was quite jealous of your tremendous blessings.
So I wouldn’t say your friend was a “retreater” per say, but probably just running from some painful things. You didn’t abandon her, but you weren’t commiserating with her, either. Your life was moving on while her’s was stagnant.