Last night as I was falling asleep, I was thinking about the last time I felt a little more positive about the world. It was when I was in Philadelphia recently. It wasn't the change of scenery so much as the change of situation.
I was with people all day, every day. I had worthwhile things to contribute to the conversations. People listened and asked questions. I felt worthwhile.
There was also a bit of that elusive thing I crave but seldom have: Willing company. I spent time with two cousins, both of my brothers with their families, and my friend, Mick, who drove up from Maryland just to go out to dinner with me and hang out for awhile. I had more social interaction in four days than I have had at home in six months.
I felt better. The brainucopia may be full most of the time, but it still gets really lonely spending so much time having both sides of most conversations within the confines of my own head.
I need the companionship of real, in-person, three-dimensional people. Not that Frank isn't real people, but he's not really a confidant or very interested in talking about much beyond home improvement, the dog, and life as a government employee. In his favor, he may be the only person on the planet who seems able to tolerate spending time with me every day (but that may be because he doesn't hear or register most of what I say. I suspect it's a coping mechanism).
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