Balancing Act, 17

It really amazes me how absolutely clued out some people are about their need for others. These are often the self-defined introverts, who claim that they prefer their own company, don't need others, emotionally, don't need friends, that they don't need anybody. What absolute bullshit! Every single self-defined introvert I know, who has made these claims have certain supports in their lives that they have forgotten completely about, or don't seem to know that they even exist. For one thing, they all have families. Even the ones who are here from other countries, and certain of these individuals have very doting and involved mamas who phone, text, message, Skype and email their darling little mouth breathers every single day. Or they have various other friends who are stupidly devoted to these narcissistic hominids and hardly a week will go by without at least a couple of phone calls or texts. For such individuals, it is so very easy to say, "well, I prefer being alone. I can't understand why some people need to be in contact or surrounded by friends all the time." They have no idea why it is so easy for them to say that. They are so used to the daily, or unobtrusive presence and support of loved ones in their undeserving lives, that they really have never known what it really is like to be absolutely alone, which is anathema to the human condition. Any one who knows about the silent torture known as solitary confinement will know what I'm talking about. The inmate, or patient, is locked in a tiny cell with nothing but a mattress and (if they're lucky) a toilet, and they can be left in there for months. No human contact. No fresh air breaks. This is considered torture and is a very effective and particularly cruel form of destroying a human being (no, Gentle Reader, they aren't allowed to have their phone with them!). I am writing today's post with certain friends in mind, by the way. These are people who claim to prefer solitude over the company of others. These same individuals have families, spouses, girlfriends, very involved parents and other friends who care enough to stay in touch and invite them places. And they always have their dear little smart phone to keep them company. So, my friends, my dear introverted hominids, I am going to present you with this little challenge: Try to imagine what it is like for someone like me. For this to happen, both your parents have to be already, and long, dead. If you have a sibling, they hate you so profoundly and completely that you haven't seen each other in decades and you don't even know if they're still alive. As far as all other relatives are concerned, you'd might as well be dead because they haven't done anything to acknowledge your existence in many, many years. You also have to give up your phone, because that ain't going to be around to keep you company, and in my case, I can't even afford that small luxury. That's right, you also have to be poor, to know what it is like to be me. On top of everything else, none of your friends will bother to initiate contact with you. You are the one who is always phoning or emailing or texting and asking if they would like to see you, because no one cares enough to check in on you from time to time and you could be dead or in hospital for weeks or months before they will even know about it, much less care. and, no, I am not feeling sorry for myself. This is the way it is for a lot of us, and I at least have friends, even if they often don't act like friends. Still love your dear little solitude? Didn't think so. And please stop judging me for wanting to be with people. Not until you have walked one or two kilometres in my shoes. If you still want me for a friend, start by being a friend.