"It's pressed between pages that you'll read if you're so inclined . . . "

Television numbs us from the reality around us. Or maybe, it not only numbs us from what is, but creates some dramatic what is not that fools us into thinking it might be or become our own reality. I doubt that made any sense.

I've taken time off from watching TV over the last week.

My evenings aren't spent wondering what will happen on next week's episode, whether I've caught or missed the last episode right now.

I'm starting to miss the anesthetic.

My hope was that I would be able to sustain myself and deepen my relationships with other people. Except that, after work, I have no people. I have no money for even the most basic of groceries and household needs, let alone trying to do something for others. All I have is time . . . but what if no one wants or needs that?

I haven't had quality time with anyone since last Tuesday night's hockey game. The feeling I have from being around people at work goes away after an hour or two. Then I realize that I have hours to stretch on and on by myself, like a big factory with its cold, automated, unchangeable schedule. I keep reminding myself that I'll be home again this weekend, but even that will only last me a few days.

I was not created to be this solitary.

I'm becoming more comfortable around myself; it's not that. It's just that, when I'm alone all the time, my life, my thoughts, my everything revolves around me. It's so self-centered. I need to be able to serve. I need to be able to love on others. I need mission (which I am probably using out of context).

Other than studying, I have no higher purpose other than to keep on existing and to "better myself." It's difficult to do that for me, though, and not for someone else or some other reason than just because all the time.

I have no one to walk beside me in real life, in real time, in person. My family has been great, a little concerned for me, lately, but great. I just need proximity. I need conversation. I need a common purpose or a common affection. I feel like I'm in a vague and hazy "solitary confinement" every night now.

My head keeps drifting back to, "Watch some Army wives. Watch some Bones. Watch some [fill in the blank]. It will occupy you and help kill time." But that's nowhere near what I was created for, and it's not worthwhile. People are reaching the end of their lives, and all I'm doing is plotting how to make mine go by faster, more meaninglessly?

My heart keps returning to, "If only you had someone to share your life with, you wouldn't be so lonely." But I can't shovel a heavy mire of loneliness onto one person. That's not right, not healthy, and never successful. (I've noticed myself doing this in the past relationships and almost-relationships I've had, so I know that for certain.) Instead of waiting, praying, and hoping to be lifted out of the miry pits by the one who can support my weight, I'm trying to scrape the crusty layer of "mire" off the top of me and dig my way out, lifting myself out by burying someone else in all that muck.

Smothering only leads to loneliness, anyway. I don't know if I could trust myself not to place heavier expectations on a friendship right now than would be healthy any more than I could depend on myself to avoid the same in any sort of romantic relationship. I need more than relationships, or they would fill that void. I think it comes back to mission. I need to be able to spread myself out, because all of my energies and attentions can be a bit — well, much. I need people. I need different ways to love people. I need to fulfill my purpose in multiple, possibly unrelated ways. I need a little water to my raspberry lemonade, because without it, I will just be too sour for anything or anyone.

And all the while, these easy fixes and numbing agents vie for my thoughts and my focus. Thank God only one is even an option now, or I'd be twice as likely to do something stupid.

"Does He ever get the girl?"