Be My Friend or I’ll Die

“It turns out, solid friendships have an impact on our health, just like smoking, getting enough sleep and eating well. Some studies have found that a lack of friendships can increase our mortality rate ” –Emily Morgan

I want to be drunk on relativity.

I quit smoking on Sept 14th 2017, I quit binge drinking in Oct 2017.

I sleep 8-9 hours almost every night.

I eat fairly well.

I hydrate, moisturize & floss every day.

I mean I really put a lot of effort into it ya’ll…

I don’t have friends, but I used to.

I used to smoke a pack a day, binge drink every weekend and socially drink during the week, sleep about 7 hours every night, eat complete crap, and I didn’t even moisturize!!! That is when I had the most friends. I had so many friends when I didn’t talk about how I feel, when all my thoughts were contained, when I was closeted in regards to my lack of religion and my sexuality, when I was stewing in misery and on the verge of losing my crap.

They were just spectators waiting on the show.

I was fused to a pseudo optimism for over a year.  I pretended everything was ok for so long but it never was.  I imagine the reason most people cling to religion is to have faith that even when you die you can still live.  I knew that when my Mom died she would be dead and i’d keep her ashes stashed away somewhere until me and my sister picked a place to toss her/them.  It’s not a fun thing to think or talk about.

Anyway, this pseudo optimism was a full dedication, not just for my mom but my friends, family, neighbors, everyone profited from it.  Once my mom started getting really tired and loopy, maybe Oct 2017 I got lost.  I had to turn off the happy smiley person, and go back into it is what it is.  Everyone left me.  Not a single close friend, I’m talking about the ones that you would take your body shaper off in front of (that is the REAL DEAL)  The ones you call when you are crying over or considering killing your partner.

I was too real, but I was just getting started, because I knew that when my mom died I’d be able to be the person that has been hiding in me since I was about 15.  The person I had hid from everyone that I had ever met had finally come out.

I’m an actual person, with actual problems, I think organized religion is a J.O.K.E, I won’t pray for you, I don’t like you if you support our crap show government,  I will date and fall in love with people besides my husband, I will teach my child to love people who deserve it and as many people as she wants, I will beat my hair up and chop it off, I will get an abortion if I want an abortion and i’ll support every woman’s right to do so, and I’ll call you out on your lies and contradictions.

Resented because I couldn’t make them feel better about themselves though the worst time of my life.

Those are the people that make you ok with not having any friends at all.  Those were the people I had.

I watch these clips on the internet or tv where people have friends that they hug and dance with and go on trips with, I don’t know what that feels like.  Even when I did have friends I was a convenience friend, a friend that was just cool to have, like an interesting key chain. Purposeless but something that adds a bit of character. The stability, predictability and over planning of my OCD brought people to me who were terribly unpredictable and not stable at all.  They craved what I had and wanted me to be their rx, and that’s not fair.  I need 9am friends not 1am friends, coffee friends not jello shot friends, friends who love themselves not destroy themselves.  It’s like tinder for friends, too sketchy for me.  Generally, you can’t just look at someone in a grocery store and be like “Come to my house and drink coffee and let’s talk about important things and cook.  Do you like cats?”  especially in this butt crack place I live in.

Ugh.