Sooo first of all, I’m genuinely going to try to explain both sides fairly even if, honestly, I don’t think this story has two valid perspectives. I’m female and I have a rare disease that makes me unable to do 90% of things without help. I’m wheelchair-bound, and I live in constant chronic pain. No medication has worked so far. That being said, I’ve always made fun of my situation — because honestly, it feels like a big joke. I’ve never been depressed about it. I became very aware of my reality from a young age, and humor is how I cope.

Despite everything, I’ve always been good at communication and connecting with people. I’ve never been asocial, but I’ve always preferred a small circle of close friends. About two years ago, I met this girl, let’s call her Lily. We hit it off pretty quickly. She had a similar sense of humor, and she was super easy to talk to. I really appreciated her calm energy, her ambition, and her dislike for gossip or drama. She was living in another country at the time, working and studying, and I admired that a lot.

One day she told me she was overwhelmed with life and wasn’t sure what to do next. I had the courage to offer her a fresh start in my country. I said I could help her with paperwork, housing, and basic stuff so she could start over. She didn’t say yes right away, but she liked the idea. At this point, I had already talked about her so much to the people around me that everyone knew who she was. I felt like she was a childhood friend... Yeah, I know I was delusional.

So when I care for someone, I express it in small, personal ways. I sent her package of things that were really special to me (things I knew she wanted), with a letter, I also said I didn’t need them anymore so she wouldn’t feel weird. I even contacted her relative to help plan a little surprise for her birthday — got her a custom cake with personal touches. I was so happy that day I couldn’t sleep. A few months later, she started gathering her papers and flew over to my country. I couldn’t meet her at the airport, but my another friend did and brought her to my house. I was nervous, but it felt natural, like a big sister coming back from vacation. She brought me so many thoughtful gifts — even books and homemade snacks from her family. It honestly made me emotional (though I kept a poker face, ofc). She didn’t speak the local language, so I helped with admin stuff a few times, but that phase didn’t last long.

Now here’s where it slowly got… complicated. I’m a very talkative person. I love sharing passions, deep conversations, all of it. But in 6+ months of living together, we only talked about meaningful topics for maybe 10 minutes total. I didn’t even mind — I thought we were just vibing in silence and that was enough. But then came this day when she had an administrative appointment. I was in too much pain to go with her, so I offered to stay available by phone and translate everything — which is what I normally do for my family too when I can’t physically go. She seemed a bit passive-aggressive but didn’t say anything outright. I waited for her to call. She never did. Later, I texted her, asking if she was okay, and she replied, “Yeah, I already finished.” But I could tell from the tone (yes, even through text) that she was upset. A few days later, she had another thing to do and asked if I could go with her. But she said it like, “If you want to, doesn’t matter,” which was confusing. I suggested going the next day — she agreed, but then I had an unexpected medical appointment. Then the place was closed. Then the next day, I had trouble breathing (worse than usual). But I still felt obligated to go. When I mentioned I wasn’t breathing well, she snapped. She told me I was “always using being sick as an excuse,” and said I only went out when I wanted to, not when I was actually feeling good. That I was faking it when it suited me. And I just froze.

She’d seen me live this life daily — the pain, the surgeries, the limits — and now she was calling it fake? I didn’t want to argue, so I just brushed it off and explained that yeah, sometimes I go out, but only when I’m mentally strong enough to handle the physical pain. Still, I sat there that night questioning everything about our friendship. How could she not understand this? Especially when she knew what she was signing up for before even moving here? Fast forward to New Year’s. I invited her to go out clubbing — something I thought she’d prefer over staying in. She said yes. But later, I remembered I’d recently started a new medication that caused nausea, vomiting, and dizziness — and there’s no late-night transport here. It felt risky, and scary. So I apologized and said I didn’t think I could go. My family member also suggested we stay in and go out tomorrow instead. She said nothing in the moment. But later that night, when we were alone, she looked me dead in the eyes and said: “Who the f*** believes a single word you say anymore?”, That shattered me.

I’d told everyone she was like a sister to me. I would’ve given her my organs if she needed them. And then she said that. I started crying, and my mom came in. I sobbed. I cringe even remembering it. But that sentence… it was triggering. And she knew it. She knew what she was doing. She wanted to cut deep. Weeks passed. We didn’t talk much, even though we were still living in the same house. Eventually, she texted me saying she was upset that I “created a scene” on New Year’s. She claimed she had been chill, and I made everything dramatic. I asked her one simple question: “Did you mean what you said, or were you just angry?” She looked me straight in the face and said: “Did I say anything that was a lie?” And that was it. I shut up after that. I couldn’t make her leave, I didn't want to — even though she had people she knew in another city — because I was the one who offered her to move here.

Eventually, she moved out — not because of the fight, just because she found her own place. Since then, she’s only visited my city three times (it's 30 min away from hers) and only when she had to. I realised that if Instagram reels didn’t exist, we probably wouldn’t have had much to talk about at all. The last straw was during another dumb argument. I said we had different views and didn’t want to keep fighting about it. She left me on read for days. Meanwhile, I was texting her, worried, checking in… only to see her actively posting online.

When she finally replied, it was full of random complaints and nitpicks. Then she called me ungrateful for telling her I never felt respected by her. She claimed I never treated her like a real friend — which just broke me even more. So now I’m here, asking: AITA for feeling like I was manipulated and gaslit? Where did I go wrong as a friend? Cuz in my heart, I truly believed she was family. And she made me feel like nothing.