In a way, I have always been incredibly isolated. I had two main friends when I was little. I had two (different) main friends in high school. Today, I don’t feel that I have any. No one that I can rely on, laugh with, or relate too. On one hand, I wish I had a friend. While on the other, I’ve come to find comfort in being alone. Silence can be healing but also hell.
My husband is very friendly and likable. I’m thankful for that because he enjoys people’s company. Right now he is outside, next to a BBQ, having a beer with the neighbor. I’m sure he feels content and full right now. That is how I would want it to be. I say that though with knowing that it will never be that way for myself. I’m not comfortable with strangers, social events, or anything that has loud noises. If I don’t know you, I probably don’t eat in front of you. These are just facts that equal why I don’t have friends.
I’ve heard that those with Depression tend to isolate to an extreme extent. Meaning, we pretty much hibernate the entire year inside our house. It is a mystery how anyone with this condition can actually make friends. Or even see people for that matter. I peaked outside the blinds a few times earlier. That was enough socialization for me. It would be nice if there was some kind of like Depression Convention. However, no one would go.
I’m going to try and brainstorm ideas on how to meet people. Even if it is just virtually. Maybe there is some kind of Depression support group or forum in the area. You may be wondering why I would want to surround myself with sad people. It’s because birds of a feather, flock together. We understand each other. And the reality is, those without mental illness, have never stayed with me.
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