I was sitting at my kitchen bar, and for no reason what so ever, my memory was jogged. I had the feeling of remembering a very crucial part of my childhood; things that feel like a former life and also like I could reach out and touch them. And I thought, how could I have ever forgotten that in the first place?

When Joey and I were little we kept a large, flat board stored between the couch and the wall. It slid behind the back, concealed from view. We used it to color on when we were in the living room, which was carpeted. I think it originally came around as a mat for play-doh so we wouldn’t get crumbs in the carpet. But once it was there we used it for lots of things. It was such an important part of our play when we built forts or set up hot wheels. It was the starting point of many imaginative days.

One side of the board had small ridges on it that made it uneven to color on, but when you’re laying on the carpet the smoothness of your strokes don’t really matter. It also had a small chip out of one side so it wasn’t an even rectangle. There were marker lines drawn across it and play-doh stuck in the cracks.

The last time I was home I had to check to see if the board was still stored behind the blue couch. Mom said she’d just recently moved it. I’m not sad it’s gone, it wasn’t an actual toy, but I really did get such a tranquil peace of mind remembering it. I simply felt transported back in time thinking “Remember how we used to color on that board…”

I’ve been trying to say this for awhile, but just didn’t know how…

I can’t be alone.

Once, my completely crippling fear of doing something on my own kept me from going to my friends wedding.

A girl who I had lived with in college for 3 years was getting married the same weekend that J had shoulder surgery. Determined that I wouldn’t miss this sacred event in her life, I booked a hotel room for myself and left early Saturday morning to make the 6 hour drive.

Another one of the roommates we lived with had text me earlier about meeting up. I was relieved to have someone to sit with at the wedding since I wasn’t that close to her family. I text this same girl as I was leaving home, letting her know I’d be there in driving time.

Me-“Hey! I’ve just left my house so I’ll be there right before the wedding. Want to meet up somewhere before?”

Going-To-Be-Sitting-With-Friend-“I’m in the wedding so I’m already here getting ready. We’re all so excited to see you though!!!”

I’m sure she used this many exclamation points because-

1. I was the only roommate thus far to move away and they probably were excited for us all to be reunited.

2. She must have felt bad that I didn’t know she was in the wedding. And yea, I felt terrible.

I called James in a panic. I don’t want to sit by myself at the wedding, or especially the reception where they’re all going to be sitting up front and I’ll have no one! I don’t want to have to walk in alone, sit along, eat alone, never ever ever be alone!

This problem isn’t a new development. My parents often tell me that I have a brother because they wanted to make sure I had someone to play with. If I hadn’t had a sibling I would have annoyed the shit out of them trying to get attention. I’ve just never liked being alone. I don’t mind it every once in awhile (obviously I write and do a little crafting alone) but even that is better if my cats are near me and I know J is just down stairs.

I had to pull over on the side of the road, at one of those gas stations that just have pumps around the outside of the building, and completely bawl my eyes out. I really wanted to get out of town and go to the wedding, but more than that I didn’t want to go alone. I tried begging J to come with me. I tried imagining that I could show up to this wedding alone. But in reality, I made it 30 minutes away from home by myself and had such a mental breakdown I had to come back.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous and I should have sucked it up and gone alone. But I’m such an introvert when it comes to meeting people I knew I’d sit at the wedding alone and talk to no one. It’s why I have a hard time making friends, even though I want them. And in a vicious cycle- I don’t want to go anywhere alone, but I don’t know how to make friends to go with.

Depression is lonely and loneliness is depressing.