One Week

One week from today I’ll be with my Billie in Oregon.
I’m very excited about it. I’ve missed her so much.

Billie and I met by happenstance. Her boyfriend had posted a Craigslist ad for someone to hang out and watch horror movies with. Billie was a lot more interesting than her boyfriend. It cracked me up, because when they split Billie didn’t want to tell me they broke up; I dunno why. When push came to shove, though… I helped Billie move out and she got me in the breakup. Lol.

I couldn’t have known how much I’d like Billie. She was just so… HER… all the time. Whether she was a goth or a hippy, she was overwhelmingly her, and I loved that. I’m not sure I’ve ever just been me, so I guess that’s why it’s such an admirable quality.

When she moved away with her new boyfriend, I wrote her everyday until she broke up with him and came back to live in my basement for a while. Her boyfriend sold everything he owned in an “I Love Billie” yard sale, and hopped a flight to come back for her. It was super cute. They lived with me for a bit, but then got their own place, and eventually her job took her away from me again, this time to Oregon.

It’s been sad not having her around, because no matter what I want to do, Billie would do it with me. Band she’s never heard of? Let’s go. Alt punk fashion show? Totes in. Video games and pizza? No hesitation. Billie is just that kind of person…

BUT I GET TO SEE HER NEXT MONDAY!!!!!!!

So… yay countdown.

Being Nice Is Abysmal

I don’t know why, but I end up in a lot of one-sided relationships.

For the most part, I don’t mean romantic relationships, especially since I haven’t had one of those since 2012, but platonic relationships: friendships, in particular.

I guess it’s because, in spite of my very best efforts, I’m a nice person. Literally,

I am the kind of person that will bend over backwards to try and make everything okay. Even if we aren’t close, even if we haven’t spoken in a while: if you are distressed, I will go out of my way to brighten your fucking day. It’s a shitty thing to be, honestly, because people definitely try to take advantage of it. I like to think it’s unintentional, but I’m pretty sure that’s just that niceness in me trying to sugar coat the truth of people being shit and taking advantage of nice people.

​One of the best examples of this is that when I was in my senior year of high school (I think) my best friend stopped talking to me. Not just to me, in fact, he stopped talking to everyone and totally dove head first into a terribly unhealthy relationship. It wasn’t really an uncommon thing, for my friends to totally abandon everyone else when they got into a relationship, but it hurt my feelings. This came after years of me tearing my hair out while trying to accommodate him and be the very best friend, ever. I was miffed. I was hurt. I was depressed and tormented over it… and one day there he was, parked outside my mother’s house crying. I didn’t even think twice about getting in his car and going somewhere with him so he could tell me what happened with his boyfriend, playing the ever sympathetic, ever reliable friend that I ever was.

I don’t really regret that day. I’d missed my friend, and everyone makes mistakes. Still, I can’t tell you why I was so ready to forgive. I’d spent all of high school trying to make this kid like me. He was the first person in high school to talk to me. I tried so hard to conform, to like what he did, to be a person that he’d want to keep around. I literally spent time crying when he’d bail on me for someone else, and he’d just thrown my friendship out like an old milk carton because a guy had come along. When push came to shove, though, I wanted him to be my friend more than I was bitter. One thing about me, though… I forgive, but I never forget. He ended up moving away and growing up to be a very important person. He’s happy. He’s happier than I ever remember him being. As much as I’d like to hold a grudge about the way I perceived myself to be treated, I let him treat me that way. I was a different person then… but we’re still friends.

Then there was the one person I fell for. She was insecure, unsure, and always second guessing herself, but she was also the sweetest, kindest person you could hope to meet. I grew really attached to her. To be honest, I think I was in love with her. I didn’t do anything about it, because she’s straight, but I cared about her more than anyone I’ve ever bothered to date. Over time, though, she grew away from me. She got wrapped up in some stuff, and with some people I just didn’t care for. I kept trying to keep her close, anyway. I tried to date someone similar to who she was hanging out with as proof that I was totally cool with everything. That blew up in my face, but not before she completely abandoned me because the guy she was dating didn’t care for my presence…

I’d like to be mad about that one, and for a few years, I definitely was. I was tormented over it. I didn’t understand what had happened, and I felt totally alone in the world. It took a while to realize that what I had previously provided her with, which was a lot of reassurance, affection, and security, was better coming from a man. She wanted to get married and have a family, and no matter how good of a friend I was to her, and no matter how much I loved her, I was never going to provide her with that. No, as much as I wanted to be angry that she deserted me, I can’t be mad about that. I’m still sad that my years of support essentially boiled down to nothing. I’m still hurt that even though I was ready to make every exception to every rule to be the person she needed to be, that I would never be that person. I still wish things were different… but through various methods of stalking, I know she got married, and that she had a beautiful little boy, and last time I checked she seemed very happy. I cannot fault her for pursuing happiness, even if I wasn’t part of that equation.

Somewhere in there were the Trixie chronicles. I was seventeen, she was twenty-something, and we had a lot of adventures. Somehow it was always about her, though. Her life was always on the verge of falling apart. There was the abusive boyfriend, who was my boyfriend’s roomie. There was her crazy mother. There was her ex-husband, who never really understood how to be a divorced dad. There were the various minions she collected, some other boyfriends she didn’t really seem to like… All that time, I was happy to follow her around like a puppy. I was having a complete crisis in my own life, but her adventures were a welcome distraction, until Mr. Man showed up. He was a friend of a friend of mine from high school, and she fell for him so hard… and… once again someone I needed no longer needed me.

I can’t really be mad about that one, either. Yeah, it sucked to drift away from each other, but she was so happy. Also, I had some shit of my own that I’d been avoiding dealing with. It was really unfortunate to hear that they ended up not working out. He packed up and left over Christmas last year. I don’t really know what happened, but I couldn’t go back to being her sidekick. I think she was disappointed by that.

There were, of course, the Bird & Mouse adventures. Bird was great to hang out with. She liked me. We’d go out and do stuff we both liked… I got tired of things with Bird, though. I got tired of her being late. I got tired of her trying to talk to me about her weight when I weight like twice as much as her. I got tired of being out with her and everyone looking at her, instead of me. (Yeah, I resent the girl for being pretty. I’m only human.) I got tired of her hearing about her parents, and this guy she was seeing, and how everything was so dramatic.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re still friends, but with a healthy amount of space. I’d grown too much to be the person she wanted me to be. I wasn’t her sidekick. I didn’t have the patience for everything to be a trauma… and god damn it, I’m punctual. I stopped offering for us to ride together. I stopped asking to hang out, using my dogs or my job as an excuse to dodge most of her requests… and I let us grow apart.

I find myself in another one-sided friendship… My friend is nice enough, but somehow I allowed our friendship to be based around my being part of his support system. He was recently diagnosed with Bipolar Mood Disorder after an unfortunate suicide attempt. I didn’t mind being around for to start with, seeing as how I’ve been diagnosed bipolar for years, but we’re at a point where I’m irritated with him.

A, He lets his Bipolar run his life.

I know that meds will wreck you and that moods are unpredictable. I live that shit. A while ago, however, I had to say fuck it to letting life get hung up on my bipolar. I FORCE myself to be a normal person. I don’t call in when I’m too sad to get out of bed… I roll myself onto the floor and cry all the way to the shower, followed by getting dressed, pushing all my emotions into a tight little ball that will one day give me cancer, and go to work. I don’t do meds anymore because they wrecked my life and I had to take the initiative to do what was best for me to function. If you’re going to be on meds and you’re unsure how they will react, you do start them on a day when YOU DON’T HAVE TO GET UP IN MORNING. That’s common sense.

2, He’s what my other gay friend call A-Gay. All he knows is gay. He’s not gay, but a gamer. He’s not gay, but something else. He’s JUST gay. And that’s fine… but it’s boring. I really signed on for more than just a friend who JUST gay… RuPaul’s Drag Race is great, but I’m not a gay man. I don’t care about going to gay bars and using the identity of a gay man as an excuse to not know basic pop culture references, just because they aren’t about gay men is kind of irritating… like… be multifaceted.

D, He’s not coping well. I don’t understand people who want to get wrecked every fucking day. More so, I don’t understand people who get wrecked when they have company. You want to have a drink? Let’s have a drink. You wanna get twisted every Friday when I come over to see you? Nah, bro. You’re boring.

So we do very little in the way of things I want to do…. and I’m just fucking over it, to be honest. I’m tired of people expecting me to do what they want and no one ever wanting to join me for things I want to do.

Years ago I did everything alone, because no one wanted to do the things I wanted to do. Then for a while I’d made some friends that were already at the things I wanted to do… but they’ve all filtered out now… and I’m back to wanting to do shit and having NO ONE to do it with… As much as I’m dreading it, I guess I’m going to have to do shit on my own again… which I hate, because I’m not good at talking to strangers. I’m not good at making new friends. I’m especially bad at feeling comfortable somewhere alone. But what else am I going to do? Sit on my friend’s sofa and watch him get wrecked every Friday until I die? Sit in my house and binge watch Netflix every evening till I die?

No… I guess I’m going have to fucking enjoy life alone…

This. This is the only reason I want a relationship. I want someone who is obligated to come to a thing with me. I’ll go to their things, too. I like doing new shit. But my life would be better with someone to share it with… friend, lover… someone besides my dogs, since I can’t take them to concerts and clubs with me…

I’M SO FUCKING TIRED OF BEING LONELY, EVEN WHEN PEOPLE ARE IN MY LIFE

Easter Weekend: Trying to Be a People

Last week sucked. It sucked hard.

I was very low Monday after my pharmaceutical FIASCO. Tuesday… I was weirdly better. It’s a trend I’ve noticed, that when I hit rock bottom I tend to be better, because apathy kicks in. The less I care, the happy I often am, but it’s not a cure all. The rest of the week was still a struggle. I was still down, having had all my hopes and dreams of feeling better dashed to the ground, and spit on, and kicked by Kaiser Permanente,but the weekend was a pleasant relief.

I was unusually social.

Friday I went to David 2’s to watch RuPaul and Martha & Snoop. HOW DID WE MISS THE RETURN OF MARTHA & SNOOP? We still don’t know, but we’re happy to catch up. I worry about David 2, because he has a substance abuse problem. It seems that every weekend he has to get as drunk and high as humanly possible. While I’m not hating on people that like to get twisted, I feel like it’s not a good thing to need that every weekend… and high as a kite every single night. That’s my dad. That’s exactly how my dad is. Oddly enough… all three of us (David 2, myself, and dad) are all bipolar… I hope I don’t ever fall into that habit. I had fun, though. We shared music and watched TV and microwaved Peeps in honor of Easter!

​(This is not our picture… We microwaved one on a paper towel, and then a whole box of them… but like… I needed a melty peep pic… I needed it.)

Saturday Mothership and I got our hair done. I whacked all mine off. It’s pretty normally colored, though. Got some rose gold and pinks for spring. It’s cute, and there’s nothing better than whacking off your hair when you’re having an emotional crisis. I convinced Mothership to whack hers off, too. She looks younger with a cut closer to her head.

Afterwards, I took her to Ulta, because I wanted lip plumper. I like lip plumper. I like when it hurts. I got Buxom, if you’re curious. The shade is Samantha. While we were there, however, they were doing free makeovers for spring. I did not get a makeover… I have a certain look that I do, and I don’t like people trying things with my look. BUT these were older women, and they noticed Mothership’s eyebrow situation… as in, she has none. I convinced her to let this woman show her how easy it is to pencil on eyebrows. It really is easy. She ended up getting the box the chick used, and some cream to bleach her dark spots.

Meanwhile… I discovered Nyx.

I’ve been a pretty loyal Smashbox girl for years, but it’s so expensive. Nyx is pretty cheap… and the COLORS are amazing. I conned myself into some ridiculously colored lipsticks, eyeliner, and even a contour kit… I’m not great at contouring yet, but I’m working on it. I figured that going back to putting on makeup in the morning would help me feel more like a person… and since I’m still so depressed that it’s hard for me to even shower regularly, figured I’d take it up a notch… because why not make it harder?

#TryingToBeAPeople

I’m trying to figure out contouring, too.

I went to see Missa Saturday afternoon. I gave her a box of painting supplies. I’m trying to ween myself off having SO MANY hobbies, because it takes up room. So I gave her all that, and now I just gotten figure out who to unload my yarn on. She was happy to see me, which was weird for me… I don’t have a lot of confidence in most people actually liking me. She invited me to hang out for a couple of hours and we just caught up. Then Lola came home and we talked about her starting a makeup channel on YouTube. I told her that I’d love to help, even if she just wants to put stuff all over my face. Much to my surprise, she messaged me this morning to make plans for Thursday. So… it’s weird, but good.

When I got done at the Polygon (literally we call it that because a ton of poly people just move in and out of there all the time, with Lola, Rhonda, and Missa being the constants), I zipped out to Lakewood to see Bren. Shaunna got off work early, and we all ate ribs and hung out, and I kicked Bren’s ass twice in Star Realms. Lol. It was a good time. I really enjoyed the socializing.

Sunday was Easter! We did nothing.

Well, that’s not true… Mom got me a dark chocolate bunny, a small box of Russel Stover’s, and a bag of apple flavored gummy bears… and then we went to the grocery store, and I wasted the rest of the day with the dogs watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, Season 7. Lol.

I enjoyed doing nothing.

Tuesday is my phone call with the psychiatric nurse, and then I’m off until next Wednesday. So… Just gotta get through the current chaos…

Danny’s Memorial Show

The line for Danny’s Memorial Show.

Somehow, within just a week, a good friend of Danny’s put together a show to celebrate his life. I honestly can’t think of a better way to celebrate a great musician and a great man. 

I’m here now, leaning up against a wall on the smoking patio, just watching. It’s a weird atmosphere. I dunno what I expected. I’m not good at emotions, and I’m definitely not good with death, so my reactions are mixed. Still it’s fascinating to see a packed venue full of people that a person touched and how they’re taking it. I’ve seen crying, which was expected, but I’ve seen laughing. There have been hugs and drinks, smiles and distant stares.

It’s amazing how many people are here, even people I haven’t seen at a show in years. It just makes me wonder if Danny knew how many people he managed to touch, how many people have great stories about him, how many people are going to miss him.

I find grief interesting in the sense that people don’t often cry for the lost. More often they cry for the piece of their lives they lost. That’s ok. It’s not an inappropriate emotion in times of crisis. You can’t always differentiate between the two, especially when that person was such a big part of your life. 

Danny was not a major part of my life, and I’m sad about that. He was such a good person, and I wish that I’d known him better. You can feel the way he touched every life and how important he was to some people here. 

My friend Hannah’s band is playing tonight, and she was close to Danny. In spite of how strong she can appear, she’s hurting a lot. A lot of people have turned to her for support, and it seems like it’s taking a toll on her a bit. I hope the show is therapeutic  for her. She and and her husband brought every piece of Danny’s discography that they had, going back years to his first demo. I wish they’d sell copies… I’d buy one. 

Danny’s best friend and band mate is here, along with the rest of the band. He seems okay, but I know better than to believe appearances. I haven’t spoken to him yet, and I don’t know if I will. I’m not good at what to say to the grieving. 

The Denver music scene lost a good friend last weekend. And all you need for proof of that is to ask anyone here. Laughing, crying, drinking, or blogging via phone, we all felt Danny’s passing. I can only hope that with this loss someone out there might realize they have touched more people than they could ever know, and that they are cared about.

Scarlet Canary – Hannah’s Band. Look up their song Blink. Tonight will be the last time they ever play it live… and it’s worth hearing.

Staycations

I haven’t been on a real vacation in a few years.

I think the last real vacation I went on was to see Davy in San Diego back when he was still in Law School. Unless you count that terrible trip to Las Vegas with that crazy girl… But I don’t count that, as I spent the whole time trying to decide if I was going to throw her over the balcony or sneak out in the middle of the night and catch a flight home. I don’t count that trip. I actively cringe at and try to forget that trip.

Anyways, last week I was on vacation. That means what it always means… I stay home and try to get some housework done. It isn’t like, a GOOD vacation, but at least I wasn’t at work, I guess. It was nice to wake up later than 6, but otherwise it wasn’t actually a great week.

The Sunday before staycation was Mother’s Day. I got Mothership the NES game Burger Time, and a Retron 5 to play it on… but the Retron 5 didn’t work… nor did the other two I got after that… so, I just got my money back and I’m now on the market for an NES… or maybe another kind of retro gaming system. I did make her breakfast, and we hung out Saturday and she hung out at my place on Sunday. It was uneventful but fine…

Monday I mowed three yards. It was hard and terrible, because they were getting a bit overgrown and not one of them is level. Tuesday I did nothing. I was just depressed, so I decided it was a sick day. Wednesday I did a little bit… but not much, and then went to meet this guy I know from Facebook for a drink in really real life. He’s nice, but only wants to be friends… and because his schedule is so dramatically different from mine (he goes to bed at 8pm) I will probably not see him in really real life again. Thursday I tried to work in the living room… boxed up DVDs and stuff to put in the crawlspace, because I’m not ready to part with them but they take up too much space. Friday I mowed my backyard… and I think I cut it too close… and if my whole lawn dies it’s totally on me… plus I discovered all the wasps living in the various boxes on my property. So… not great.

Friday I also skipped out on my friend’s 30th birthday party. I had the intention of going, but I thought about it really hard and couldn’t think of a good reason to go. Is she a nice person? Yes, totally. Have I known her a long time? Since high school.

The reason I skipped out is because I didn’t want to go and I didn’t think I’d be missed. I don’t like karaoke. She loves it, so that’s what she did for her party. I also don’t feel comfortable in a social setting. Either I say something that makes me realize that I don’t relate to people at all or no one really speaks to me and I end up drunk from drinking my drinks too fast, as a way to cope with being socially awkward and ignored. Drunk me also has a tendency to try and socialize even harder, only to end up saying something moronic or offensive, so this doesn’t help me at all.

There’s also this thing that bothers me about my friends… They don’t show up.
I haven’t had a birthday party since I was 21. My birthday is inconvenient, as it’s Halloween, but also I never have anyone to invite to a party. My friends don’t come to parties that I throw, and this was first illustrated to me when at my 21st birthday party so few of MY friends showed up that my live-in boyfriend had to invite a bunch of his friends to come over so that I wouldn’t be depressed. This concept was reaffirmed when I had a picnic… invited a bunch of people, and only one person besides my mom showed up. I have a blog post about that, but it’s too depressing to link.

It’s just a thing… I’ve decided to stop bending for people. I’m lonely, sure, because everyone I know is a terrible friend, except the one in Oregon… but she’s in Oregon…. so… whatever.

This feeling will pass…

Point is, it was a depressing staycation… I accomplished almost nothing important, and I have no social life.

Trapped In An Elevator

I had a weird weekend.

Friday I was supposed to have a date. He ended up cancelling, because he didn’t feel good. I was pretty okay with it… I still left work at 4, and ended up eating Chipotle and playing Injustice, instead. I was going to go out to karaoke, but I just… didn’t really wanna.

On top of knowing that if I went out I’d smoke, and I’m making a conscious effort to NOT DO THAT, I just don’t feel like I belong at karaoke. I don’t sing, so there’s that, but it’s more than that. I’m increasingly aware that I don’t really feel like I fit in with people that I call my friends. It’s not because they’re married or have kids. It’s not because I’m single and a borderline pet hoarder. It’s how they receive me, really.

Like, I’m sure at some point in your life you’ve had a conversation with someone, maybe a parent, maybe a friend, maybe a sibling, and they’re listening to you and not being at all rude, but you could feel that they didn’t really care what you were saying. Or, that feeling when you’re talking to someone and you feel like everything you say just sounds stupid, but they don’t say that and they’re very polite. No one has told me that when I talk it’s boring or stupid, or that I blather on about nothing. I just don’t feel like people care what I say. Even if it’s a shared interest I always feel like when I talk, they are just listening to be polite… We don’t carry on conversations TOGETHER so much as THEY TALK and I add in comments as best I can…

Maybe I get that insecurity from talking to my mom. Whenever I try to tell her about something that interests me, but doesn’t fit into her interests she just gets real quiet… and I just want to curl up and die because I’m boring. She doesn’t tell me I’m boring… she just doesn’t really listen and stares at something. In recent years I’ve gained more and more interests and she has seemingly actually lost interest in some things we both used to love. I try to assume that happens to everyone, but I don’t really know, since most people I know don’t spend much time with their parents.

Anyways… I staid in.

I was really surprised with Injustice. I picked the game up for $20 at Target. People had recommended it to me, but I wasn’t expecting much since it was pretty cheap… granted it’s 3 years old, but so is Pokemon Y, and that’s still a $60 game… I am really into it, though. I love the plot. I love the game play. The characters are great and even have some depth to them. I’m actually enjoying this story better than the story for Mortal Kombat X, which I got kinda bored with in story mode. So, I foresee that eating a lot of my time in the future.

Saturday I got my hair done… put some pink and purple colors in it. Super cute stuff… and then I hung out at home till it was time to go on a date (maybe).

So, SupaNerd and I were to meet up at the 90s show I was going to. I didn’t know if he’d show up. I hadn’t checked on it, or anything, because…. in my head a sane, rational person wouldn’t be checking up on it like that. In reality… I was pretty sure I was going to be there alone, get depressed, and go home. Fortunately, he texted me. He came straight from the gym, and we joke about how I didn’t think he’d show. He took that a little personally, but between standing me up once, then cancelling on me, and then not talking to me for a month… I mean, what else SHOULD I have assumed?

He apologized, and filled me in on how terrible work has been and how hectic it’s been getting his dad ready to move out here with him. So, I opted to forgive… and thus began probably the worst date I’ve ever been on.

The pizzeria we met at was packed. We could barely get to the bar, much less find a seat. So, I, in my brilliance, thought we could go downtown. So, since he lived closer, I got his address and we agreed I’d pick him up and take him downtown. Well, my phone has no idea where he lives. So I got lost, and he had to figure out where I was and how to get to his place… WHICH WAS SO EASY ONCE I FIGURED OUT WHERE THE HELL I WAS!!! Stupid GPS.

Then I asked to use his bathroom and he was all kinds of embarrassed because it wasn’t clean. Now… I don’t live in filth, but I’m a relatively messy person with four dogs and a cat, who doesn’t dust. So, I’m like… for serial, bruh… stop it. It’s fine. And it really is. The guy doesn’t have much. He’s gotta be living in 500 sq ft and it’s sparsely furnished. In fact, he doesn’t really have furniture… He has a 3D printer and a bunch of electronic stuff where he’s building computers and shit. I just kept going, “Dude… my house is worse… stop it.”

So we went downtown. This was a bad idea for a few reasons. First, there was a hockey game. When there is a game of any kind, every single place in Denver becomes packed. We couldn’t find anywhere that we could get a drink. It was insane. Also, it’s February. Granted, it’s been great weather for February, it was windy as shit. So we got blown all over. The wind chill also made it colder than it was. So we kinda walked around the area of LoDo that I like, and then crossed the Platte to get to really real downtown.

There’s a big bridge that goes over the train tracked at Union. It looks like a boat mast. I like that bridge. I don’t like the stairs to it. There’s a lot and they’re weirdly lit… and I hate them… so while SupaNerd ran them, I took the elevator. That was fine, until the elevator on the other side broke. With me in it. At least I was on the bottom floor, or I might have been more nervous, but the doors wouldn’t open. SupaNerd was freaking out, cuz I was stuck in an elevator. Meanwhile, I called the little man that is supposed to help you get out. His techniques didn’t work, and he was sending a technician.

I took the opportunity to return a call to my friend and we laughed about me being stuck in an elevator. He had called to see if I’d go hang out with him, since he broke up with his significant other, but I was… stuck in an elevator. He found that quite funny, though. I also told him about my date, who was stuck outside the elevator. Then I realized I hadn’t seen my date in a while… and I heard something bash hard into the door… and the door opened! My date saved me! Lol. Not a graceful save, but he saved me! Lol.

We celebrated by running away from that cage and getting pizza. Well… he got pizza, and I watched him eat it, because I don’t eat in public, since my GI track always wants me to die afterward. Then we tried to go to the Rio for margs, but again it was packed… And then in a weird series of conversational events, he picked me up and dropped me. So that was fun.

We decided to just go back to his house to watch Steven Universe. That was nice.

I had to rub lotion on his back, though, because he is sunburned to hell. How? Tanning bed. He literally gave himself heat stroke in a tanning bed. Lol. It’s so ridiculous. Apparently he got self-conscious at the gym, which is not ridiculous. I don’t gym, but when I did I hated the locker room. Between the people changing in public and the old women that just walk around naked… it’s just… bad… so fucking bad…

I didn’t stay the night. We didn’t kiss. We didn’t do anything except watch Steven Universe. I did lay on him. Went home around 1am. He insisted we hang out the next day. I was not opposed.

Sunday I made cake. Here’s a blog entry all about my failed cake and my rebound attempt. Baking is hard. I also rushed around in the morning and picked some shit up, cleaned the bathroom, etc.while SupaNerd was at work. I didn’t deep clean, but I washed the sofa cover and stuff. Just things that seemed good. Since I’d seen SupaNerd’s place, I knew I could get away with not being super clean… cuz I’m just not.

We were going to go to the Aquarium or something, but he has heat stroke, and I am thousands of times more comfortable on my own turf. So he met the dogs… who only tried to kill him like twice… and we watched Steven Universe. I put aloe on his back, cuz he looks like a lobster, and let him borrow a t-shirt since his work shirt is really rough. Then… the afternoon declined into him essentially sleeping on my sofa / me. It was fine, though. I watched Steven Universe, we ordered Chinese, and when he passed out I took the opportunity to watch the last episode of Gravity Falls. It was the kind of date you usually have with someone months into it… So, it was a literal weird, but it was fine. I didn’t really mind.

I did send him home around 330 though. He really just needed to sleep, and I had more housekeeping I needed to get to. He went home and passed out… and I put in some laundry, made my 2nd cake, and played Injustice some more.

Then I watched Star vs the Forces of Evil. Why did no one tell me that show was so awesome!? I binged the entire damn thing, and I have no regrets about it.

Anyways… that’s my weekend.

I like SupaNerd. I liked him since date one. I don’t know how to tell the other guy I’ve been talking to that I have a thing I’m cultivating. Like.. I don’t wanna ghost him, cuz that’s shitty and he’s not a shitty person, but I don’t know how to address it. He wants to meet this week… and I guess I still could. It’s not like we’re dating. I dunno… I hate shit like this.

I’m Lonely

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?

lonely

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:

  • painting
  • drawing
  • video games
  • handheld video games
  • writing
  • reading
  • comic books
  • computer games
  • remodeling the house
  • tv
  • 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.