Finally alone.

Most teenagers seem to have this sort of feeling of being alone, some very specific (and unsurprisingly common) idea that no one quite understands them, that they are very much alone. Aside from exceptional cases, this is far from the truth - most teenagers have parents willing to support them (emotionally, financially, or both), siblings to besiege them or to besiege, a community that watches them for signs of the future, a group of friends which is inherently vacant of truth but nevertheless full of the comfort that sameness brings. This feeling - angst, do they call it? - is a dramatic premonition of things that may come to be as teenagers age and, in many cases, become adults. For some teenagers, this glimpse is enough for them to desert the ideas of individuality and ingenuity - they settle into patterns that lead them to paths beaten to death by those that came before them, grasping onto anyone who seems to share any similarities with them at all.

Most people, I think, will eventually come to a crossroads; a place where they must choose one path or another. The way to the crossroads is often a tough one. In my case, I have become increasingly alone, in part due to the repercussions of my own choices, in a way that I feared as a teenager. So, this is what depression is like as an adult. No more angst. Some switch in my head flipped, and depression is no longer debilitating (though I can see how it would be), but rather, a needling pain that could literally make me insane if left to fester. It has become another hurdle, another item to be addressed, almost as if I were paying a bill. This bill requires persistence; there is no ultimate solution. Just as in the end, you always owe someone money (death taxes, anyone?), in the end, I will always have this very basic need that will have to be addressed.

There are varying degrees of aloneness, based on physical, mental, emotional, and financial needs that must be satisfied. I am not financially alone. I am mostly supporting my basic day-to-day needs, but there is help, if I need it, readily available. Otherwise, I am alone. I have basic contact with my coworkers, very rare contact with friends, and regular contact with customers. I would say, at this point, that I do not really have friends here. I have acquaintances through my jobs. I do not have a significant other or any promising candidates. My only confidantes live thousands of miles away. I have my family, but I can only get to them by calling them or jumping on a plane. I could disappear completely, and no one would know, notice, or care until I missed several days of work. I go to work, I go home, I go to Starbucks to enjoy tea and a book, sometimes I go to the gym and run some lonely miles before driving home to shower, usher the cats out of my room, and go to sleep, only to wake up and do all of it all over again. I go to my favorite bar to read and drink, alone, at the end of the bar, occasionally being addressed in a friendly way by the staff I have come to know. I feel pathetic, loserly. I don't have time to make friends, I guess, between the two jobs, and even if I did have the time, I would not know where to go.

This aloneness is not going to go away any time soon. Frankly, I'm trying to get used to the idea that it will be this way for me for the rest of my life, or perhaps until I have a child. I'm not trying to garner sympathy, but instead, convey the realization I recently had: the images we are fed as children of growing up to be instant husbands, wives, fathers, mothers don't just create themselves, and when they do, they do not always happen to the people who desire such things the most, or even the people who are ready for such things. I never doubted, until recently, that I would someday find a husband and eventually have children, figuring out a way to make it work with my other life goals. This isn't a feeling of angst or self-pity; I'm just going to keep carrying on like I do now. Do I wish I had someone I could love unconditionally, who loved me unconditionally, who was physically here when I needed them? Yes.

Maybe I'll just have to get a puppy.