A Horseradish
Tuesday 2nd April 2019 11:43pm [Edited]
8,475 posts
Quote: Chappers @ 2nd April 2019, 11:58 PM
I think this nits problem is all in your head.
Well, this is the other reason why I don't have any friends (apart from tentatively voting for Remain and then being prepared to join a civil war for Leavers). If you tell people that you have never been married, never had kids, minimally did relationships, which drove you mad, they say oh you are a loser or were ugly or gay or grossly irresponsible or a psycho or how dare you never have had all the awfulness of a divorce. They have to have some way of justifying their position vis a vis your own position or else become suspicious, jealous, critical. It's sad because I couldn't give two hoots on what brings people into contact with me. I just look for people who are interested in something cultural.
Even more frustrating. There is no way that they will believe that you could have collected friends as in friendship in droves for three decades (which I did - late teens, 20s, 30s/40s) or that there isn't something sinister lurking. It wasn't my fault they all married or died or sadly became disabled or just plain boring as befits their age (that is most of them). Worse still, if you act as if you are 38 (which I do) and are 56 that isn't allowed. I do miss friendship, Friendship is a wonderful thing. All of this came back to me when I recalled that the last woman I ever spent some time with (an incredibly lengthy 3 months - I guess it was a relationship) mostly she disappeared for hours into my bathroom to remove the nits from her 9 year old daughter's head. It wasn't a huge issue but I questioned whether there was any point. And there wasn't.
Perhaps I should add that I was and am an only child.
My best mate Ray, father of three, 64 though very much younger, in Essex wrote yesterday: "Looking forward to another meet-up and Bob wants to come along too. I find it hard to believe that you haven't made any new friends in 10 years - you are such good company, never let the grass grow under your feet, and are so gregarious".
In short, I could never cope with getting on that ladder, it seemed like accepting a conveyer belt to death to me, and I couldn't cope with the concept of death, work was much the same but I did 27 years of it - enough to satisfy to my parents I wasn't an on the dole merchant, I had the protestant ethic but I really don't rate work, I think it's absolute shite.