I’m lonely and alone. For the most part I don’t mind being alone but I don’t like it either. My problem is I am socially awkward. I don’t know how to make friends. I don’t know how to share my interests. This comes from my past and I see an awesome therapist who is trying to help me. I am encouraged to go out, join groups take a class, whatever but just before I’m about to commit that little voice inside says Why bother? No one will like me, I’m not good enough, smart enough, young enough, and on and on and on. I’m not a kid. I’m a middle aged woman who has no idea how I’ve survived this long. I tend to get off track. That’s because since I have no one to talk to I ramble if I get someone’s attention and then they go away. I’m actually a good listener but again I digress. My inability to make a commitment to something that may help me, that’s where I was going. So I will be shocked if I actually post this. I still carry my past like the heavy burden it is. Again, attempting to work through that but I feel like I am starting with a lie. A lie of omission. What do people say after Hello? I know I can’t be scary and say Hi I’m a recovering addict, recently incarcerated and living in “transitional” housing. These are topics I am well versed in but none of which I am trying to perpetuate. Although I’ve been to many support group meetings I find it extremely stressful and quite frankly un-supportive. So back to the loneliness, if I don’t let anyone in I won’t get hurt and the price I pay for that is loneliness. Today I went to a few thrift stores. An activity that usually gives me some pleasure. Don’t tell anyone I said so but I am very creative and see purpose in everything. Everything but me that is. Anyway I found myself looking at people that were by themselves and wondering if they felt as alone as I did; couples and small groups seemingly enjoying the company wondering how. In my case eye contact would have to be made and that’d be a big leap for me. I write. I started writing in prison and since I’ve been out (a little over a year) I no longer have the group that we shared our writing. I miss that and can’t seem to find one. I don’t want to write a novel. I just want to write what I feel, share it with someone, hear what they have to say about what they feel and maybe figure out that I am not alone.