I haven’t written much lately because, mood-wise, I’ve been doing very well. I’ve been happy (or whatever you call it) with virtually no bad spells. I’ve basically accepted my life as it is.
I haven’t been going out or really doing anything though. I wonder if there’s a connection.
Today though, I don’t even know how to say it.
I’m killing time at a mall waiting for it to be safe to go back in my house after a bedbug spray. Killing time, in a mall, by myself, playing solitaire with actual cards. Here by myself because I have nobody to hang out with. Nobody to visit. Nobody I’m comfortable calling and saying, “Can I hang out at your place for a few hours?” to.
I have nobody. No friends, no lovers, no one. I understand that I will never matter to anyone. I’m really coming to accept that I have to go through this life alone. But today I’m having a hard time with it.
Now I already know that there are people going to be protesting that I’m wrong. My family will say “of course you matter” and Facebook friends will say “I’m your friend.”.
This is my definition of a friend: someone who contacts you on a regular basis, like talking on the phone or even texting. But regularly, as in every day. And they spend time with you. You hang out and do things together.
See, I have nobody like this I my life. No one who talks to me regularly or who seems to have any desire to spend any time with me.
Now people will say, “why don’t you call people up to do things?”. Well, I can’t. I’m borderline. Unless someone gives me very clear and consistent indications that they want to hear from me, I can’t do it. If I do, I know what they’ll say. They will say they’re too busy for me; they’ll say “don’t bother me”; they’ll say “leave me alone.” I’ll be rejected and, no matter how gently, that would kill me.
And it brings me to my mood today as I sit here in this mall by myself.
I have no purpose and wish like hell that I could be dead instead.
No I’m not going to kill myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.