The Dark Cloud Over My Head
27 August, 2003 - 11:45 a.m.

I thought I might do another picture-laden entry today, but I have other things on my mind. And really, I'm tired of Wyoming pictures. We've been showing them to all kinds of people who are willingly subjecting themselves to all 358 of them, and I've been posting them on my Fotolog, so I'm pretty tired of seeing them and working with them. I haven't even uploaded them to a picture site, so I can get prints because I'm so sick of looking at them.

The other things on my mind are how friend-lonely I am. It's pathetic to whine even more about such things, but my husband is pretty tired of hearing about it, and I'm tired of hearing him say, "So go get some friends," or "I've told you you need more friends." Nothing to make a girl feel better than to say things like that. And really, I am ashamed to admit to him that he's right and that I don't really have anyone. I'm not the kind to go fishing for sympathy either, so I don't talk about it to his family. They would probably take it as an insult anyway, since any of the family members I'd tell consider themselves to be friends. And it's not that I don't think they aren't friends. They are. But it's different than having your own unrelated friends. There are things I just can't share with his family, because they're family. And as I've mentioned a million times before, they gossip like writers for Us magazine. It gets much too complicated, so it's best to keep family friends distant. I think that's perfectly understandable and healthy.

But then there's other relations. The most contact I have is with neighbors. I've talked casually with them hundreds of times. I even went to a Home Show featuring Christopher Lowell with one when we both loved to watch him. Then there was the candle party fiasco where she and my in-laws got in an argument. My mother-in-law bashed her ruthlessly without end thereafter. That neighbor never called again anyway.

That was the second friendship I had ruined by my mother-in-law, the first being the one I had with John's cousin, which ended up being too complicated to maintain for the reasons I stated before.

Another neighbor has a daughter Booie's age, and they play together once in a while. They were in the same class at school for two years and in the same Girl Scout troop. This neighbor and I see a lot of each other. We talk for extended periods of time some mornings when we send the kids off to school or when we call one another for this or that. It hasn't went further than that but for the one time she asked me over while the kids played. She's super-nice, and I like her, but there are some differences that made me shy away from trying to develop any closer relationship, religion being one of those. She seems a pretty solid Catholic, and since I'm pretty solidly nothing, I could see that being a problem. Maybe I'm wrong in not giving it a chance, but even if we did become better friends, I know I would feel guarded. It's bad enough I have to do that with my own parents. I don't need any more of that in my life.

But it seems that's what I'm left to do. It seems that no matter who I meet, I must compartmentalize them. This one hates exercise. That one is a Jesus freak. The other is extremely neat and organized. Too young. Too old. Hates kids. Hates animals. Hates men. Doesn't do crafts. Too conservative. Too extreme. Doesn't like to read. Doesn't drink coffee. But really, most of those things wouldn't matter if she or he wasn't judgmental. I can get along just fine with lots of people as long as they don't start cracking on me. But even so, you have to share some basic commonalities (Is that one of those dumb made-up words like "impactful"?) to be able to really talk to one another and hang out, doing some things we both like. And that's what I want.

You know what the problem is, right? It's me. I'm not really looking. I don't get out much, and when I do, I stay in my own little comfort zone. I used to be someone who went and talked to people, but I don't do that much anymore. When I do, no one really seems interested in what I have to say, because I'm not interesting. I get a tepid response to just about everything I do anymore. My journal is nearly three years old, and I barely keep an average of 20 hits a day, including Google searches. I've lived here over five years, and I don't have any real friends. Even my Fotolog is low on visits. And I really, truly thought my photos are pretty good. I know my writing leaves something to be desired, which explains the journal, but the Fotolog seemed better than average. Not that my pictures would help me make friends all that much.

I guess what I need is an honest opinion of what I need to do. I don't think I'm particularly mean or unfriendly. I think I'm just annoying in a lot of ways, and I don't know what it is that makes me that way. I'm ignorant that way. I think that's been a lifelong problem, but I always had someone else serving as a buffer for me. How I got someone like that, I don't know. Kay is fully responsibly for the initial formation of our friendship, so maybe I should ask her.

That probably wouldn't be a bad idea. As humiliating as it might be to admit to her that I'm completely lonely and fairly friendless out here, she is probably my best bet for finding out what I can do to be more friend friendly. Sad that I have to resort back to Nebraska ties five years later to get somewhere in my life. The last few times I've went back there, I have much more fun with the people I knew than I do almost a whole year being here. I remember getting tired of hanging out with people when I lived back there.

Kay has moved on. She found my replacement and hangs out with her all the time. That stirred up a lot of emotions and jealousy for me. I don't want her to be lonely like I am, but I do wish I had that too. I'm not her best friend anymore. Sure, she'll tell me I am, but I know better. Your best friend is the one you call when you're mad at your husband or when you need an emergency babysitter or when you want to go out for coffee at 10 PM. Kay doesn't call me with husband problems anymore, and we're too far apart for those other things. And because she's moved on, I don't feel like I can even call her anymore, even though I know she would tell me otherwise. But it's not the same, and we both know it.

I thought I'd be happier here. I really did. And in my marriage, I am. I think moving here did help John in lots of ways. We're even graduating out of marriage counseling. We each have an individual session to wrap things up, and then he will start going for individual therapy for a while. But where one ill is made well again, another one has formed. I'm happier with my home life, but I can't say I'm happier overall. But for being a wife and mother, I feel pretty useless as a person. Play your tiny violins for me.

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One Year Ago Today:
Nothing, not even from two years ago

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