I've fought depression most of my life and when it gets really bad, I can't stand being around people. I do it because I have to, but it's always a relief to get home and be alone. I find that choosing the 'right' people to be around helps me the most - those that make me laugh, and think, and aren't emotionally draining with judgement of me or anyone else, and who I just enjoy being with.

It's hard. But you deserve to have interaction you enjoy and remember with happiness. Pick your friends wisely and appreciate them as they will you. That's all I've got, but it's helped me. I don't think anyone should be completely alone too much, it's damaging, and sad.

Beginning with small segments at a time, focus on the other person. What are they saying? What is new in their work? Hobby? Relationship? Where was their last travel?

It becomes a balance between asking one or two questions and becoming overly patronizing --- asking questions without caring what the answers are. If the answers become something you know nothing about, say so. You can learn something.

About yourself... Are there things you can share about you that they might not know?

Sharing the contents of the o.p. might offer a topic for them to engage. That is hard but may help.



Are you familiar with any of the research, articles on Aspergers? That might be a beginning for you.

My Dad always told me I cared too much, and I do ..... knowing the problems of others and not being able to help bothers me, a lot. But I'm thrilled for them when good things in life happen.

I've had a life filled with many things I wouldn't wish on anyone, so no ... I don't talk about that much. I don't like making others feel bad. There are better things to talk about. Laughter! is something that helps me more than anything, and I've found a group of people who are not only compassionate, smart, adventurous, but also hilarious to be around, and that works for me.

I'm not sure if your post was directed to me, or the OP. If not me, sorry.

That's good advice.

I tend to be invisible in groups. When I had gone to a church for ten years or so, people would still repeatedly introduce themselves to me thinking I was new!

I tend to leave an impression ...... good or bad and people tend to remember me, but that may not be such a good thing.

But that's ok!

Thanks.

tho i wouldnt classify myself as a loner, as i do enjoy people immensely, there are times when i feel like my skin is paper thin.
isolating is something that i do when the depression is bad. family, especially, can be very hard. i cant be around them, yet i miss them horribly.

do you think you might be suffering from depression?

I have a doctor appointment in several weeks and will see about getting on something for it. I hate taking medication and wish I could just fix myself.

i dont think you should feel that way. if your liver wasnt working, you wouldnt think you could just fix it.
it is possible to get past needing meds with a lot of talk therapy. but even then, it helps to be on an even keel.

take good care of yourself.

Every day in my life is a new adventure.

Any morning I might choose not to get out of bed, to stop eating, to stop talking, to stop breathing...

Been there, done that.

At my very worst I've closely orbited the black hole as a six foot plus homeless skeleton man suffering pneumonia.

Fortunately for me, Hunter, "off his meds," I've never experienced a long wait in the E.R.., not more than six hours.

I've always had advocates. Friends, family, and occasionally cops who counted me among the amusing and mostly harmless.

I do not venture silently into the darkness. Suicide has never appealed to me. I've always been gifted with many utterly useless OCD tasks I must complete. I've always known that "if I was dead" then my fingers, hands, arms, and eyes would no longer be functional. And then I couldn't do all my useless OCD things.

There's an itchy hair follicle on my skin demanding attention, failed hair shedding, or twisted multiple shaft ingrown hair, I pick at it, I pluck it out, score!!! Blood! Waxy puss! A BB sized cyst! Many extra points!

If that sounds disgusting, then you don't want to know about my computer stuff.

Once upon a time, long ago, myself a naive innocent, was abused by bad people who paid me well, used me.

The last E.R. time for crazy ass Hunter self was early 'eighties. At first they thought it was illegal drugs.

Hah, hah, it was drugs they'd prescribed me. Steroids make me crazier than I am normally.

Prednisone family are my favorite drugs. For a few days I'm thinking, "wow, is this everyone's normal? I like it! I like it a lot!" My skin and my mucous membranes and my lungs and my guts, all the noisy parts of my body and mind stop screaming at me 24-7! I sleep. I have ordinary dreams.

But inevitably, after about five days later, things always got crazier.

I like to think it's me even further normal, and the world at fault, but that doesn't explain my bloody bare feet or losing my clothes past midnight on the beach.

I suffered early 'eighties.

My last crazy E.R. visit was 1987. Meds since then, both asthma and crazy, have improved immensely.

Beyond early 'eighties, my E.R. times have been utterly boring and mundane. Ordinary vascular, lung, and mumps-scarred-testicular plumbing issues.

I will confess, I sorta miss my youthful crazy days, but hell yes, I still think some still owe me.

I have kids and most lately a dog who kept me feeling like I served a purpose on the planet.

The kids are grown and the dog died.

I don't really have problems -- they're all in my head. That's the problem, though.

but I'm an introvert. I find that being in groups or around someone who talks a lot to be draining. I get my strength and footing back by being alone and in nature. I do suffer from depression, but I am no extrovert personality-wise. So, don't beat yourself up for being like this, it's just how many of us are wired

Our society rewards and lauds extroverted types and that can make it hard to figure out whether you genuinely feel lonely and that you're missing out on something, or whether you are viewing your life the way you believe others would and feel ashamed for not measuring up. Obviously you're the only person who can make that assessment.
When I passed menopause, I discovered a tremendous freedom. No longer producing those "please love and accept me" hormones, I was able to experience my life from the inside. I used to make up things when asked how my weekend was, for example. Didn't want anyone to think I was a loser. Now I say, you know me. Embraced my inner hermit. And loved it.