Dear Annie: My dearest friend and I go back over 50 years. We've seen each other through everything, high and lows.

Recently I became disabled and can no longer drive. I'm also a widow. I'm not asking anyone to chauffeur me around (I have that handled), but a phone call here and there would be lovely. She lives just a short distance away, yet she visits only about once a month and texts or calls infrequently. She has never once offered to run an errand. I always tell her how much her visits mean to me.

What makes it sting a little more is that friends I've known only a fraction of the time are absolute angels. They call, they check in, they show up and say, "Visiting is good for all of us!"

She's married and very family-oriented, with children and grandchildren nearby. I realize she's a senior, too, and has only so much time and energy. Maybe I expect too much. But am I wrong to feel a little hurt? — Disappointed but Loyal

Dear Disappointed but Loyal: Your newer friends have stepped into a role your old friend may simply not know how to fill. Fifty years of friendship was built on a different version of you — one who didn't need much. She may be uncomfortable, avoidant or quietly grieving the change herself. None of that excuses the silence, but it might explain it.

Let your newer friends carry what she can't. Save your oldest friendship for what it still is — and try not to penalize it for what it isn't.

Dear Annie: I've struggled with insomnia since high school. I'm 62 now, so we're talking over four decades of staring at the ceiling. Everyone swears by the same remedy: Focus on your breathing. Inhale, exhale, bring your mind back when it wanders. My father learned it in the Air Force and swore by it his whole life.

But it backfires on me completely. The moment I focus on my breath, my brain turns it into a new anxiety spiral: "Am I breathing too deep? Too shallow? Too slow? What if I hyperventilate?" I've turned the cure into its own condition.

I'm not writing in despair. Sleep always comes...eventually. But I have no suggestions on a fix-all. I haven't found my solution. I just want people to know that the breathing trick, helpful as it is for many, doesn't work for everyone. Is there any hope for those of us who can't even relax correctly? — Overthinking the Inhale

Dear Overthinking: You've managed to turn relaxation into its own source of anxiety, which, honestly, isn't unusual for a certain kind of mind.

For some people, directed focus acts as a spotlight rather than a dimmer. Try redirecting attention outward instead — ambient sound, a fan, something low and consistent. The goal is to occupy your brain just enough that it stops auditing itself.

Four decades is also long enough to loop in a doctor or sleep specialist. This is solvable, and you shouldn't have to spend hours each night staring at the ceiling. You may never find a fix-all, but the right support can get you a lot closer to a full night's sleep.

"Out of Bounds: Estrangement, Boundaries and the Search for Forgiveness" is out now! Annie Lane's third anthology is for anyone who has lived with anger, estrangement or the deep ache of being wronged — because forgiveness isn't for them. It's for you. Visit http://www.creatorspublishing.com for more information. Follow Annie Lane on Instagram at @dearannieofficial. Send your questions for Annie Lane to [email protected].

Photo credit: David Knudsen at Unsplash