21st century hopelessness

It is odd that in 2015, where the entire world is at your fingertips, in an age of non-stop information sharing, where one can sit in a room and talk to 150 friends virtually, that it is possible to feel entirely and hopelessly alone.

Admittedly, I’m slowly transforming into a crazy cat lady who spends her days looking at memories of days gone by in her pyjamas, minus the cats. I am not making any increased effort to stop being hopeless, or isolated. So I’ve really got no one but myself to blame, but I can complain and whine about it and still be to blame. My blog, and it can write whatever I want.

Thing is, I think hopelessness and loneliness are different. I don’t feel especially lonely. As I write this I have four chat bubbles pinging away indicating that there are four people in the world that want to talk to me. That four more than many people, so I should be grateful for that. Which I am. Sort of. But what I actually want is people to engage with face to face. Real people in real time. Not that the bubbles aren’t real, these are all people I know and see in real life, not some strangers I acquired off the internet, but they’re not really here.

Chances are they’re all sat at home in their pyjamas talking to four people who aren’t really there either. Only they’re probably aren’t over analysing the situation. Maybe they are. Maybe we there all over thinkers and all too socially incompetent to speak to one another about it. Unlikely.

So how does one stop being alone? Meet someone. Well we’ve established that is comparable to scaling Everest, so that’s out. Meet new friends? Ah yes, but how does one do that at nearly 30. Can’t just go to the park and share an affection for the roundabout before inviting them back for tea. You have to join something, or go somewhere where you present yourself to a group of people already bonded and attempt to get accepted. I am no good at this. I am ok at the presentation and the subsequent viva of questions. I’m polite enough and just witty enough without being offensive to get past round one. But the problem is, getting to the presentation part. Whilst other people are fumbling over their words and trying to think of appropriate jokes whilst with the new group, I am stood outside the door, filled with panic and dread. Actually I’m not even at the door, I probably got as far as the driveway and then carried on walking.

I am the awkward kid at the back of the room, desperate to join in the party games, but terrified of rejection, so watches from afar because being alone but with the potential to be accepted is significantly better than being alone and rejected. However you look at it, all the options involve being alone.

It’s all quite hopeless really.


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