November 18, 2011

Loneliness Stinks

Three and half years have passed since I left a fabulous job at the hospital to be a stay-at-home mom and artist.  In that time, I've done too little.  Worse, I've lost nearly all human contact and, for whatever reason, am really struggling with that issue this week.  The holidays are always fun in our home, though sparsely attended.  Usually the table is set for just my husband and, if I'm lucky, both of my kids are present and accounted for.  We play goofy board games, watch seasonal movies and just have a lot of fun goofing off.  Last year I turned 50 and that meant a MOB at the table, with family flying in from all corners of the country.  What fun!  But my in-laws live hundreds of miles and many states away, and my sister lives across the country and the economic environment has put quite the damper on travel for everyone.  Sigh.

So what do I do?  I feel like I did in high school.  Frequently the new kid (many times as I was a military brat), I would watch clusters of friends that had known each other for years, and I just couldn't seem to wiggle my way into the crowd.  What would it have been like to go to school with the same kids for more than three years?  I'm very outgoing and have a lot of fun talking with people, so it isn't a matter of being shy.  My husband's staff insist that I, "the party," am included in their office lunches so that they spend the hour (plus) goofing and laughing, so it's not that I'm dull.  And contrary to the tone of my blog, my spill-my-guts place, I'm quite the goof in person.  So what is it?!?  I just always feel like the odd girl out.  I have no artsy or craftsy friends locally, as I've fussed about before.  They've got to be out there somewhere.  I'm losing my sanity being alone so much, holding full-fledged conversations with cats.  THAT is the true sign of insanity.

While I've joked about placing an advertisement in the "Want" ads for artsy friends, there's a part of me that is thinking there's got to be a way to do such a thing.  Where do I begin?

Here kitty, kitty, kitty.  I need a chat.

1 comment:

  1. Linda this post has described me perfectly,I have not worked for 30 years,so you can imagine the sort of conversations I have with myself.

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