Questions. Lots of questions.

I think I'm dealing pretty well overall with a lot of issues, especially those dealing with my past.  Also learning to cope with the fact that some things I once believed in might not be what I thought they were.  Changing my own history in some ways, and how I react to it.  It's tough, but I think I've made quite a lot of progress.

My mood has been lifted, overall, by a wonderful vacation I had recently.  I saw a lot of wonderful things, showed my son some things he'll remember forever.  Spent quality time together, which we needed.  It was a great experience, and we got to bond with our new dog as well.  He loved the cities, the hikes, and the sights . . .  I think he enjoyed it as much as we did!

So now I'm home, and I guess everyone feels blue after returning home after a vacation.  I feel more than that, even.  I feel like I'm in the wrong place.  The wrong city.  I felt like that in Fort Worth, too, since I felt like such an outsider.  I had nothing in common with 99% of the people I met.  It was disheartening and lonely.  Now I'm in the Los Angeles area, and meeting people with similar interests, but none of them really care to get to know me.  I've noticed that it's sort of a syndrome here, that people (in general) are content to have many acquaintances and few (if any) close friends.  A lot seem more interested in networking than truly meeting people.  It's a lonely feeling.  I've come to wonder if something is wrong with me that I still haven't made close friends here.  And there is evidence for that, which I'll share.

First, I have always lived in a city where I had family to lean on, so I'm not used to meeting new people.  It's  a skill, and I don't think people realize they don't do it until they really need to do it.  So now I've had to meet people, build relationships from scratch, and I don't know if I've done so well.  It's hard feeling rejected over and over and over again and not letting it get to you.  Try to be friendly, people think you're weird.  Hand out contact info, no one ever calls back.  Play it aloof, no one talks to you.  Ugh.  What is wrong with these people? I feel like asking.  But what if it's me?

I made a couple of close friends when I first moved here, people I thought were easy to talk to and to get to know.  It made living here a pleasure.  I felt like I could grow as a person, and maybe enjoy living here for a while, even though it never has felt like a home to me, or a place I'd like to raise my family and grow old in.  But both of those friends ended up hurting me.  Both were insecure women, like me.  They decided to end our friendships at different times.  One breakup really hurt, the other I was half-waiting for.  Both women seemed to want more from me than I could give, with a husband and child.  One wanted me to practically date her, call her daily.  The other wanted me to be single and go out all weekend.    Did I not commit enough of myself to these friendships?  Were they worth keeping?  I want to tell myself that if it took more out of me than I was getting back, it wasn't worth it.  But as I sit here, lonely, feeling detached from this place, wanting to go find my home town, I wonder if I've made mistakes that push people away.  If it's me that's the problem, what is it I'm doing wrong?  What did I do?  What can I do to fix it?  Or have I really just not met the right people?  And where are they?  And how do I build a relationship with them in this place?

Feeling uncertain about that.  Otherwise, I've adapted to the fact that some of the people I used to admire and trust aren't who I thought they were.  It's hard to admit this sometimes, but my whole family is just messed up.  I guess, whose family isn't, right?  But it was hard to accept that about my family.  I'm not proud of that.  I'm not perfect myself, and how could anyone be, much less someone coming from that family history.  It's a little bit easier, in some ways, living farther away, and not having to watch that decline on a daily basis.  Each one of them seems to succumb to a different demon.  And denial that the real problem is the problem, in one way or another. 

Now I'm stuck with this feeling that I really want to look for my home, the place I belong, love, feel pride in, feel safe, clean, and like my son will do well there.  But that's not practical.  Money, jobs, responsibilities, commitments . . .  It's not realistic.  But I don't want to live regretting what I failed to do anymore.  So what DO I do?