On and On

The next four weekends will be filled with nail guns, saws, rap music and a whole lot of noise. The basement has to be finished by the Superbowl- which is just one month away. I am not looking forward to the banging and thumping, but at least Aaron has his dream basement within his grasp. The walls are up and painted, the bar is framed, and the built in tv stand just needs some stain. But the carpet and hardwood need to be installed, the bar needs a sink, cabinets, and wine cooler, the ceiling isn't all up, and the stairwell needs some work. Aaron and his handy friends are going to be in for some late nights. I need to buy some earplugs.

The cloud that has been hovering over me has lifted slightly. I still feel alone, there's no denying that, but the outside world looks a little less daunting. Thursday night, after pushing Aaron away for days, I finally opened up and told him how sad I was. The man is a saint. He gently kept suggesting a dinner out (which is normally my favorite thing to do- I love going out to eat) to which I kept refusing. Finally, something in me said 'put on a fucking hat and some jeans and just go.' Over dinner we had a long talk; he admitted he feels somewhat responsible for my lack of friends because I moved here for him. In no way is it his fault- I have been struggling for most of my life to feel like I belong somewhere. When I moved here, I had nothing back home except an ugly divorce.

But the divorce is ancient history. I have been here for over 5 years and while so much has changed, so much has stayed the same. None of Aaron's friends liked me when I moved here- and it was made very clear. I tried so hard to make them like me, but they saw through my facade. There were fights; verbal and physical. His friends used to bet how long it would be before Aaron sent my crazy ass home. Instead, Aaron and I got closer, and slowly, his friends accepted me as part of his life. Now that we're married, everything is very civil, but there is no warmth.

So it's always been very important that I find my own circle. And I've made quite a few pals along the way. But keeping them has been a far greater challenge. The girlfriends I had 3 or 4 years ago are not the same few friends I have today. One friend got lost in a world of crystal meth, another had a husband who hated me, while another just stopped all contact... It has become disheartening and scary. It's so hard to put my true self into a relationship and then have it suddenly taken away. In some ways, I've hardened my heart, and stopped putting any effort into finding new friendships. But like I have been saying all week, it only contributes to the feelings of isolation.

I am so dependent on others, yet deathly afraid to reach out. I call myself a loner because it's the easy way, sometimes the only way, to get through. Out of the 16 hours a day I am awake, I spend at least 10 alone. When I work, I'm alone at night in a hotel room. I was an only child; and a latchkey kid at that. My social skills are shit. There was a point at the last party I went to, where I had to sneak away and cry, because I had no clue how to talk to anyone. I can't use alcohol as a social lubricant because of my medication. I'm naturally shy in large gatherings. It felt horrible to be hiding, but I really didn't know what else to do. Eventually, my friend came and found me, and coaxed me back to the party. I felt incredibly stupid, but did my best to try and shake it off. However, I spent the rest of the evening silently scolding myself for being so insecure.

And I continue to scold myself, for one reason or another.

This has to stop. I tell myself that I'm just in a rut, and that I will snap out of it. But every day is the same. I am alone, and I'm not very good company. I need to spend my time being productive and meeting new people. But how?? And doing what??