I went out with Cat last weekend. We just went to a 90s show. We invited an old coworker and we had a great time. Prior to that I had not gone out since I went to the ER back in December. That would make sense if I were scared of going out after my ordeal, but that’s not the reason. The reason I haven’t been out is because I haven’t had anyone to go out with since then.
I used to have more friends; not a lot more, but more. I also used to not be afraid to go out alone. Even when I had more friends that I saw semi-regularly we didn’t often share interests, so I adopted the habit of going to things by myself. It was practical, because if I waited for someone to want to go to things WITH ME… I’d never go. I went to car shows, rock shows, museums, art shows, taverns, breweries, and even a club or two all by my lonesome. I would enjoy myself well enough. I liked it better when people went with me, but I didn’t let a lack of company stop me from doing anything that I wanted to do.
That was just a few years ago. Since then, I’ve stopped going places alone. I don’t know why. Somehow I grew uncomfortable with that and stopped doing things just for me.
Since my friends did not get better at going out to things and we still don’t actually share any interests, I just spend a lot of time alone, now. It’s kind of good, because I like spending time with the dogs, especially with Keagan being as old as he is and Kyrie having glaucoma and being as old as she is. Still, as much as I hate it, there are nights where the company of a dog just doesn’t seem to fill the social interaction void in my life.
I realized that I’ve been filling this space in my life with stuff… It only becomes apparent when I start impulsively buying everything I want on a whim… And when I start binging. No amount of Chipotle or comic books can fill the space. Trust me. I’ve tried. So I have a bunch of new comic books, a bunch of new video games, a Kindle Fire to replace my cracked iPad (which I totally didn’t need), and all the binging. It’s been bad, recently. It makes you notice… but what REALLY made me notice?
He was kidding. I know he was kidding.
We talk about this kind of thing a lot, because he lives on the other side of the world and he gets lonely, too. Still, he said it, and it dawned on me: that is EXACTLY what I am trying to do.
So what does it take to fill the hole of crippling loneliness? People? A best friend? A lover?
Maybe it just takes ENOUGH material things. Maybe once I get a Surface Pro 4 I’ll be so distracted by my hobbies that I’ll feel better…
Here’s my current hobbies:
- video games
- handheld video games
- comic books
- computer games
- remodeling the house
- collecting and watching old or banned movies
- working crazy amounts of overtime
I really have enough hobbies that it SHOULD fill all the time. I shouldn’t have time to feel lonely between all the games I need to beat and the books I have to read and the art projects I’m planning. So how does it seep in?
In the weeks following my coworker’s suicide, things have been said. No one saw it coming. It didn’t make sense. It would have made more sense if it was that weird guy we all know has emotional problems. How does one get to that point? Why didn’t he just talk to someone? All those things are curious to me.
I’ve thought often about suicide for roughly 14 years, now. I remember the first time I thought about it I was 13, and it was long-term planning. I just wasn’t sure I could handle being an adult. I’ve managed. I surprised myself. Still, I’ve thought about it a lot. I think about it at least weekly. I assumed that everyone’s thought about it at some point. Maybe I think about it more often than others, but surely I’m not the only person that thinks about it semi-regularly… right? Guess not. So… I’ve gotten to the point where it’s an option… why don’t I talk to someone?
Well the people in my life I could talk to are… My mother, which would result in a lot of yelling about what an idiot I am for thinking about it and then a lot of crying and her wondering what she did wrong. I could talk about it to Cali BFF. but all he ever says are Nihilistic things about how life is meaningless anyways. If I ever DO kill myself, I’m gonna add a blurb in my letter about how he was right and life IS pointless and thus I opted out of it. Maybe I’ll thank him for the input. There’s the Oregon BFF. I think if she were around I’d feel less sad, but I still don’t think I could talk to her about something like killing myself.
I mean who can you talk about that with? Who isn’t going to be instantly concerned? Who’s not going to freak out? No one. Maybe a shrink. They’re significantly less prone to having you locked up than people think, but I really hate paying someone to listen to me, to be honest.
My aussie friend, crippling loneliness guy up there, thinks I need to find a group to be a part of, like a gaming group or something. My mother thinks I need to volunteer somewhere so I can maybe find a husband.
I dunno what I should do.
I know that I keep getting up. I know that as low as I get and how many time I might think of killing myself, I’ve never REALLY tried it… although, a few of my drinking escapes could prolly be racked up to suicide attempts, no matter how unintentional they might have been. I don’t know.
I just… know that I’m lonely, and that people dislike me. I’m abrasive, and I can be crass. I am either silent or I’m in your face. I always think I want friends, and then I end up trying to get rid of them. So… I dunno, guys.
I don’t… know.