My Social Circle is a Dot

I don't know how it happened - maybe it was quitting drinking or maybe it was political posts I made on Facebook before I deleted it - but I have virtually no real social life. I get out on occasion when I can (working swing shift has definitely made that harder than it used to be), but it's never with a consistent group of people. Like there's no one around I consider a close friend these days.

And I don't mean that in some spiteful way, I wish those people all the best in their lives. But there's no true confidant or someone I feel I could go to just to get some stuff off my chest. Instead there's just this stupid blog with the occasional anonymous reader. And those occasions are fewer and fewer these days as well. Which is probably for the better considering all the inane shit I write. Maybe all of this is for the better.

If people quit wanting to hang out with me because I've begun making a lot of things political, that's just how it is. I know it's annoying - but we're at a point in history where just trying to ignore it and hoping it all blows over shouldn't be an option. And I feel like too many people I know are taking that option. Or even worse, some people I once hung out with are likely cheering on the US's descent into fascism, and I think I'm better off being lonely rather than being around people who support that.

As for people that don't want to hang out with me now that I'm sober, I totally get that. I know when I was drinking, even if someone swore up and down being around drinkers didn't bother them, it still bothered me to have them around. I don't know why, sober people just seemed to just kill my drunk vibe just by being there. I'm not saying that's the case for the people I used to hang out with, but I would totally get it. 

Maybe it's something else entirely and/or a combination of lots of things. I got told at work a few weeks ago that I have "resting asshole face." I didn't know that was a thing, but it makes sense. I also seem to sweat more than I used to. I don't know what that's about and while historically I don't think I've ever been one of those people that stink when they sleep, maybe that's change. Maybe I'm now the stinky guy and I don't even know it.  

It's also depressing to think that my closest friend right now is a woman from active duty. Obviously, as a fan of traditions, I have a crush on her as well, but I'm doing alright in not even kidding myself there's a chance for anything romantic between us. Partly because I mostly know better, but also because she's active duty and her time here in Alaska is limited. Very limited at this point. So I just do my best to enjoy myself on the occasions we do hang out (which aren't really that often) and not think about it much when we don't. I wouldn't even call her a close friend, just my closest by default.

 I do still have Hamlet at least. He's not much for conversation, but he doesn't criticize my singing off key either, so that's a plus. And sometimes, when I'm getting ready for bed, he'll lay on the bed and warm it up so I don't crawl into bed onto cold sheets. I know he's not doing that on purpose, but it's still nice when it happens. And despite him obviously being a senior dog at this point, he still gets lots of compliments for being cute when I take him out. On the other hand, he's begun snoring more often and louder as he's gotten older and I don't know of any fixes for dogs snoring. 

I know I'm complaining of a problem of (at least partly) my own making. And certainly a problem that is up to me to fix. I guess I just didn't realize how hard it would be to feel a connection with people as I got older. I know lots of people talk about it, but it was always one of those things I thought I wouldn't have to deal with. Like I was somehow so special for intangible and unknowable reasons.  

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