I've been remembering this time when I was at a football game with my new group and saw some girls who had tortured me as a kid. I turned to my new friends and whispered, "pretend that you like me." One of them looked at me quizzically and said, " but we do like you." I remember being so distracted by the need to prove my new found coolness that I barely took in the fact of her affection.
That pattern has repeated itself in my life. There have been times when I had more friends than I could keep up with and times when I spent most of my time alone. I'm in one of the alone times. I have many, many great friends. I mean really, truly, great friends. But most of them live far away. I have great neighbors and people I see all the time at the pool or when I shop. I've been in my neighborhood for a long time. But I don't feel like I can call someone right now and ask for a coffee or dinner date. Most people have jobs and families and modern life is just busy.
To some extent my aloneness is a choice. I feel the need for time alone. But I am aware of the number of friends who no longer call. A few years ago I had one friend tell me that she couldn't handle how hard my life was and no longer wanted to be around me. It was badly timed, abrupt and I never got over it. If I'd been calling her all the time moaning and groaning I might have understood.
That moment at the football game is still a part of who I am. I am aware of the friends I have. I am anxious and worried about the people who seem to not want to be around me.
I am a depressed person. I always have been. But I don't call people to moan and groan. The older I get the less willing I am to talk about it at all, with anyone. I smile and keep conversations focused on the other person. It's part of why I don't write.
This morning I pushed myself out the door and into the pool. I chatted with people. I came home and found a post card in the mail. I get very caved in and filled with self hatred but it doesn't take much to make me smile.