I've Gotten Used to It

I grew up in a small town just west of Dayton, Ohio.  I had friends and my biggest worries were my homework and what mom was fixing for dinner.  We would spend the night at each others' houses, goof off, play video games and other nonsense that boys get into.  I do miss those times. 

Girls?  Well yeah but my friends and I were not exactly magazine cover types.  We were your run-of-the-mill average looking boys.  We had one romeo -- he was braver than the rest.  The rest -- including me -- just oohed and ahhhed at the shear audacity.  It didn't last long though and he soon joined us in our frivolity.   We didn't care in the end.  We had each other and that was fine.  We had fun and that was enough.  We got used to it.

Later, after high school, I went to college.  I bunked at the smallest dorm on campus with a couple of boozers.  I didn't drink.  So, that left me as the odd man out.  I spent a lot of my time in the TV room and made friends with the hide-away-from-the-world misfits.  Paul and I hung out watching reruns of the Brady Bunch and MASH.  People would filter down to play pool, read, or watch a little TV.  They'd glance our way and wonder.  I could only imagine what they thought.  "What a couple of odd ducks."  That's probably being kind.  We got used to it.

Further, in my sophomore year Paul and I roomed together.  Many times we goofed off, watched some TV or generally wasted time.  Girls were out of our league still, but we liked talking about them.  Wondering.  That is until a girl from my high school called me out of the blue to see if I (a sophomore in college) wanted to go on a blind date to their senior prom. I liked her.  So, I agreed.  After all, what else did I really have to do?  I became bored with the straight and narrow life I'd lived.  Perhaps I'd gotten too used to it?  I went.

Turns out I married that blind date, Patty.  Even though I really went to see the girl who called me.  Guys are suckers -- especially ugly guys with no prospects.  I got used to it. 

Patty became my center.  We spent a lot of time together and Paul just kind of faded.  We were friends still (and are to this day -- He just lives about 9 states over).  I'd never really had a serious relationship.  After a few months I was so smitten I proposed.  I didn't see me dating anyone else.  I got used to her.

After two kids and a couple of job changes, we were an old couple of 25+ years of marriage.  My wife was my wife.  My kids were my kids.  I will always love them and they are who I live for.  But I've never found that adult friend.

I wish I could say each day is a wonderful journey, but depression is a sucker punch.

You see when I lost my high school friends and then Paul.  No one replaced them.  I struggled for years to make new friends.  I'm sure that me not smoking, drinking or doing drugs hindered my efforts, but I'd try different tactics --  Talk, Don't talk, Be myself, Tell jokes.  Whatever.  Even if we had a few good conversations, all of it ended the same way -- awkward.

Nothing worked.  It still doesn't.

I know I'm not alone in feeling isolated.  I can only convey what it is like.  When I'm around people they smile and nod while all the time their non-verbal cues scream "I want to leave."  I used to try getting them to talk about themselves, their kids, spouse, etc.  Nope.  "Let me out of here!"  So, I let them.  I figured if they were that uneasy I wasn't going to force the issue.  If they were to become my friend, they should be comfortable around me.  Surely there was one person.

So, I'd approach people and say 'Hi'.  Most would respond with the same.  Light conversations would ensue and then once that ran out... Well you know -- "I want to leave."  Over and over I'd try.  I did nice things for people.  Even big favors -- including help moving, powerwashing houses, anonymously giving gifts, visit people in nursing homes.  It all didn't matter.  I was always too 'something'.  Too smart.  Too tall.  Too weird.  Too quiet.  Too ugly.  Too talkative.  I'd talk sports.  Shared interesting articles.  Attempted golf.  The harder I tried the more I became the blob that people wanted to scrape off their windshields.


I even attempted the sympathy route and confided in a person or two.  Let's just say I became the blob with ticks and leeches that people wanted to scrape off their windshields and wash down the gutter.  You tell people you've been depressed and it's like they can't make enough excuses to get away.  I doubt I'll ever do that again.
 

So, I gave up.  I figure if God has a friend planned for me he'll send me one.   Now, I just say hi to the people in the halls.  Talk shallowly about the weather.  Keep to myself.  Nod and smile.  Sit alone.  Eat.  Go back home.  It's the only place I feel like a human being.

I still get depressed.  It's ok.  I've gotten used to it.