PEOPLING

I used to watch Sam (back, far right) sleep at nap time. I was amazed at how fast he could fall asleep and how he could sleep with his mouth wide open. Fascinating.

You know what’s wonderful and great? And great and wonderful? Finally feeling good about not having to have plans with other people. I’ve always felt that this level of being was only something very cool and confident people could achieve. This complete and settled feeling of not having to see others blew my mind. I never understood it. Maybe it’s the only-child in me.

I hated the idea of it. I couldn’t imagine just being ok with no people. I was constantly chasing friendship. Pretty much my whole life, I think. If there was night when I tried to find people to hang out with and couldn’t, I felt like a total fucking loser. And, of course, if anyone were to call or text me and say hey, let’s hang - I’d drop anything to make it happen.

Being alone felt like failure. It felt like rejection. It felt like, oh you have all this free time but you don’t want to spend it with me? That killed me. All the time. So many times. I mean, I wasn’t bored and alone all the time. But you never focus on the nights that were good. Or the wonderful friends that were up for a chat on the phone because they lived too far away. The focus was on that final moment, too late in the evening, when I tried everything to get a friend date and came up short. Fucking failure.

I wanted to turn off. Crawl in a hole. Fast forward to daytime hours. Skip this shitty feeling. I knew it was wrong to let my head get carried away with this really stupid and destructive thought pattern. But I just let it keep happening. The hope. The chase. And then more often than not, the failure.

Did I always have fun when I did find people to hang out with? No. But I was with people! I was peopling. And peopling meant I was alive and worth being around. So good times or bad, if I was in the company of others that meant success to me.

It wasn’t until this year that things changed for me. One night I had no prospects for a fun evening and was in too good of a mood to feel like a piece of shit that night. I finally thought, what if I just stop trying with these friendships like I did with stopping eating gluten. Would it cure me from feeling like a loser? Would it suck and be weird for a little while and then become wonderful and second nature? Would the benefits outweigh the cons? Would I feel good again?

So I did. I just gave up. At first I focused on the giving up part like a game. Like, I bet no one is going to reach out tonight. And no one did. Which was fine because I some how distracted myself, found something to tinker with at home. Then came the next night. I made the same bet. And sure enough, no calls or texts to hang out from anyone. Again and again. The free and empty nights added up.

Did I die? No.

After a few months of this I began to realize - who gives a fuck? No one. Literally no one gives a fuck. Why am I getting myself so upset over something that no one else cares about? No one has any clue how I am feeling on nights like this. I like being around people and spending time but clearly not everyone’s into that. So guess what, cut out the shit and the pain goes with it. Can’t get rejected if you don’t ask.

So now, after however long it’s been, I’ve gotten used to the gluten-free friendships. It’s forced me to figure out other ways to spend my time and find value and worth in myself again. I feel better. I feel healthier mentally and physically, actually. I sleep better. I’m not dreading an empty Friday night. If they call, they call. If they don’t, I’m already elbow deep in a project or doing a spa night for myself and going to bed early. The friendships are still there. They haven’t really changed. All that’s really changed is just myself in how I no longer let this invisible monster of a non-issue get the best of me.