Ah. My inaugural post. The one that will (unlikely) lead many of the tens of you who have stumbled here to decide if this is a blog that you will continue to frequent or if closing out of your browser completely makes the most sense at this stage.

Many of you have likely already left.

Good. Let’s suss out the weak immediately. This probably wasn’t for you.

And now, I will poorly transition into the crux of this post- LONELINESS: is it killing you?

I was chatting with a friend about this topic the other day. That’s a lie. It was months ago and I took a note in my phone and then decided to write about it now. I just want us to go into this relationship with full transparency.

By nature and self-induced circumstance, I am a loner. You probably knew that because who else would decide that spending a weekend afternoon typing up a blog post instead of having brunch or sitting in someone else’s house eating their food and wasting their electricity would be a good idea, but a loner.

I am a poor so I like to keep my friend circle small for budgeting reasons.

No friends = savings on social outings where you run the risk of meeting new people who may try to loop you into a friendship. (Fool me once!) and gifts for holidays and birthdays (didn’t you just have a birthday like a year ago? There’s a line, Valerie. You’ve crossed it).

With that said, I’ve been putting some thought into this new wave of loneliness many seem to be struggling with today. In spite of the numerous ways we have to stay connected thanks to the internets, we are more lonely than ever.

It’s like we leave high school/college/grad school (I assume some of you is smahht) and have absolutely no idea how to make friends anymore.

Oh, uh. I see you also have a green shirt on. I too enjoy blending in with trees and the rogue leprechaun. Is this… friendship?

We know how to human until we’re airdropped into the wild like medical supplies in a war-torn village and our skills are put to the test. Outside of work, we really lack places that present organic opportunities to meet new people. I mean, who is really trying to get chummy with Cindy in accounting? Where exactly does an adult go to meet people with similar interests and hobbies? The grocery store? We all like to eat.

Granted, I wear headphones when I grocery shop because nothing gets me inspired to buy vegetables like 90s ballads (“If I… should stay… I would ooooonlyyyy be in your waaaaaay,” I hum as I realize my cart is blocking the aisle while I assess peanut butter options), but I can’t think of the last time I got caught up in a random conversation at the store like I’ve seen in the movies. Although, it sounds delightful in theory. Trade jackfruit recipes with me so I know it’s real.

As we get older, we lose that unbridled sense of not giving a fuck about other people’s judgement that children so beautifully possess. Back in the day, you were friends with someone because you were the same age, they lived within five minutes of you, and you both were forced outside to stop watching weekend cartoons.

“Can *insert your name here* come outside and play?” The original “wyd?” Simple.

Children don’t mind coming across as stupid or making a complete arse of themselves. In fact, they sort of relish in it.

Growing up, the coolest kids in my neighborhood were either the natural athletes because bragging rights are life in the cul-de-sac or the ones who gave so few fucks. One double bounce gone wrong and suddenly Tyler has to be up all night out of fear that he has been concussed. It’s amazing they’re still alive… actually, I lost touch with all of them.

God, I hope they’re still alive.

I had a good vibe going here so we’re going to quietly back away from this dark corner I’ve led us down.

And we’re back!

Good ol’ social anxiety (that selfish, clingy, significant other you want to break up with, but can’t because the sex is crazy and they threaten to kill themselves if you leave) gets us so caught up in our own heads. We begin to develop these paralyzing fears of looking stupid or being judged by a stranger whose opinion doesn’t even matter so we end up not sharing a bomb jackfruit sloppy joe recipe with that stranger, going home and playing out what could have been in our heads fully equipped with witty statements, hilarious retorts, perfectly executed dramatic pauses, and even a thought provoking statement or two.

Social anxiety rubs your shoulders over the matching his/hers bathrobe.

“They were probably going to invite you to a brunch with new strangers you would have to buy birthday gifts for anyways. We have plenty of food here in the house now. Look at all this jackfruit!”

We worry about people not “getting” us if we put our true selves out there.

“Hi, I see you accept generic small talk, alcohol induced bonding neither of us remember, but think was a good time because alcohol, and mindless tagging in memes… what about a 2 hour discussion about starting an okra farm in South Dakota with ample breaks so we can collect our thoughts? No? Ok. I’ll just put my heart in the freezer section on my way out. Wouldn’t want it to melt. :’)”

We put so much energy into worrying about saying the wrong thing, overanalyzing a text reply, laughing uncontrollably at a fucked up joke from three weeks ago we just happened to remember while someone is crying their eyes out over the loss of their grandmother, looking stupid when in fact, we are all stupid. All of us. See: the American government, reality tv, our unrequited love for social media (it’s the debil), this blog.

Harness that shit into some good. Hell, get in the same revolving door compartment as a stranger and make a friend in 0.5 seconds. What a delightful yarn you two can share at parties (You’re invited to parties now. Wassup.) right before everyone envelopes you and your revolving door homie in a dance circle as you two bust out that custom choreo to Quad City’s Space Jam!

Social anxiety claps offbeat in the back.

I imagine this is what goes down at parties. I haven’t received a formal invitation to a party since Bush was in office. The first one.

And this is the kind of disjointed, lacking a formal resolution, awkwardly entertaining writing you can expect from this blog! You forgot this was an introduction post, didn’t you? I did too.

Bye.