Walls of Words

Entertainment is limited for people who are chemically sensitive. We must isolate from people, either unenlightened individuals who have no clue how to be fragrance free or masses of humanity who group for social events such as restaurant dining, concerts, theater, movies, sports, family functions, and the like. We find ourselves exiled and isolated from others. 

Although I've gotten used to being alone and have found ways to entertain myself in my isolation, I often tell people I am "socially starved." The unenlightened don't normally understand this concept. They have zero empathy because for the most part it is unfathomable to them. The pandemic shed some light on the lifestyle of many chemically sensitive when so many people were forced in lockdown to stay at home, stay away from people to stay safe, and find ways to self-entertain. The unenlightened complained of gaining too much weight. Yep, it comes with isolated self-entertainment. We eat to self-medicate. 

I've discussed forms of isolated entertainment in other posts: creative projects, gardening, walking, television and movies, music. These are great to keep one's mind occupied, but "social starvation", a total lack of human contact and communication, is a whole other form of torture. I crave communication. I am not necessary lonely or in need of company...I just want to communicate. This blog is a great outlet. Email is a god-sent. How did we ever survive without computers? I can't imagine being chemically sensitive at a time when there were no computers or online connection. Thankfully the world wide web keeps us connected to the world, perhaps indirectly, but it's still a connection.

I have been bestowed with the gift of gab. I can talk or write non-stop if given the chance. As an extreme introvert, I never used to be like this, but I have evolved through isolation to seek out strategies of connection and communication. 

My last real "date" with a man was not supposed to be a date. Under normal dating circumstances, I would have conversed like a normal person, discussed topics, answered and asked questions. Because I viewed it as a non-date, I didn't care about conversation etiquette and proceeded to talk non-stop about anything. It was like uncontrollable vomit, purging all the words I'd kept inside for too long. He was fragrance-free and kind of quiet so I was having a good time. At the end of our "non-date" he said, "You sure are a great communicator!" I think a normal first date would not have been so verbose in an attempt to look rationale. He actually wanted to go out again, but since it was a non-date, I declined. This also made me realize my past dating behaviors might have been self-sabotaging. I should have just let loose and talked non-stop. I might have been considered more interesting!

My emailing addiction can become out of control. Every now and then I meet someone new or reconnect with someone old and we begin to correspond. For reconnections, the reminiscing is grand and the updates and sharing what we've done with our lives is phenomenal. It can go on for quite a while, but we eventually run out of things to say, the emails slow down and then stops except for an update every few months. That is normal and expected. I know I can write them under the table. I've had people finally tell me, "OK! Too much! I can't keep up!" One friend told me I was exhausting her. At first I thought, It's email! Just don't read! It's not like a phone that is ringing and demanding attention." I think, however, that etiquette demands emails to be read and answered and this overwhelmed them.

So I started monitoring my emails, managing their length and frequency. My rule was I could only write as much and as long as the other person. I thought I was the queen of compromise, but nevertheless, I still had people scream, "TOO MUCH!" This was confusing. Too much? You are writing just as much if not more than I am!? Case in point, on the day one friend told me it was too much she sent me four emails. Then a week later sent me two letters! Last week she spent one day emailing me eleven times!!!!!!???? Confusion is an understatement. I think it's more about CONTROL. Regardless of mental state or reasoning, writing was still taking up too much time, time the unenlightened don't have because as people who are not chemically sensitive, the world called to them. They had things to do, places to go, and sane people to see, people who weren't locked in their houses at the computer writing 24/7. They don't understand the isolation of chemical sensitivity nor the lack of entertainment or communication options. I tried to apologize and explain how socially starved I am. They don't care.

I've always searched for MCSers who want to correspond. Some do, but most are very negative and it's very draining. I do understand. It's difficult being chemically sensitive, sick, resentful and angry at the world for this forced reclusion. I try to control my posts on this blog so I don't get too negative, but it oozes through like a festering wound especially during times of uncontrollable frustration. I just want to vent to get it all out.

I recently met another MCSer who was uncommonly cheerful. We started responding to each other's posts on a MCS site. She was hilarious. Her writing style is joyful and upbeat. I figured maybe she was on some good drugs. She told me we were "twinsies". HA! She constantly made me laugh. We began messaging each other outside the group and she warned me, "I can write WALLS OF WORDS!" LOL! Oh, my god, I think I found my people!

That joy lasted about a day before she began ranting non-stop about how horrible her life is, how horrible her childhood was, how horrible her family is, how horrible her ex-boyfriend from forty years ago was and my super empath sucked all that toxicity in and I became irritable and stressed out. She explained she doesn't want to converse because she's so passive it makes her feel judged. She just wants to talk about herself. I wanted to scream "DO A BLOG!" LOL. I just can't do MCS people. I'm sure they can't do me either.

The Last Woman on Earth

The latest trends in television shows are post-apocalyptic themes applauding the end of civilization. We like the idea of wiping the slate clean and start over with new beginnings for humankind. The underlying message no matter how this theme is presented is: We really screwed this up.

Any number of things might cause this annihilation: nuclear war, alien attacks, viruses, Republicans, or some unknown sci-fi reason for all electricity to cease working. I love fiction. We are so forgiving and accepting of strange plot lines. There are always a few survivors left to pick up the pieces, but most importantly, the world is thrown into a pre-technological state. A storyline that would cause many television-addicted couch potatoes to panic, but for the rest of us we salivate at the thought of a simpler life.

My favorite show is The 100. It's about earth becoming uninhabitable due to an overabundance of radiation after a nuclear war and the only survivors were those on the space stations. The culture created from being cooped up on a space ship is fascinating. Any tiny infraction and the perpetrator is "floated" - death by space. Unless they are under age, then they go into juvie jail to await their eighteenth birthday and a court hearing to determine if they are capable of being model citizens. It's ruthless. After 97 years, the space stations are running out of air, so they send 100 juvenile delinquents to the ground to see if it's habitable yet. If it's not, bye-bye loser kids. I love the show. I'm addicted. Normally the writing is outstanding, but season two's finale just aired and it was absolutely horrible. Maybe it's the beginning of the end for this series? Still, I'm in the throes of withdrawals and I hate having to wait until September for a fix.

These themes are nothing new, in fact very old. Noah and his Ark comes to mind. God thought we (or he) fucked up royally and decide to start it all over. Great idea. And the biblical apocalypse ideal was invented before we even had technology! I guess no matter what time period, life has always sucked. Now though, if you are the only one on earth, there would be no wars, pollution would eventually dissipate, chemical production would stop, perfume-saturated people would cease to exist, evil people would be gone, plants would start growing over all the cement. Back to nature. No phones ringing, no computers demanding your attention, no televisions warping your mind, no news programs scaring you senseless. Peace and quiet.

Are you all watching that new show The Last Man on Earth? Well, it's another goofy comedy destined to keep us brain dead for summer. This one is about the aftermath of a virus that wipes out nearly the entire population save one guy. He's not a real smart guy and he's not really very survival oriented either. He spends most of his time trying to find ways to entertain himself: using lamps as bowling pins progressing to bowling with cars, driving through store fronts, and using a swimming pool for a toilet because he's too lazy to haul water. Mindless entertainment and immature destruction. From what I've read, it's getting more viewers than that cognitively-impaired cartoon Family Guy, an indication the middle-American viewers aren't real bright either. BUT it's one of those shows that sparks your imagination and inspires fantasy. What would it be like to be the only person left on Earth?

The opening episode shows this guy driving around the USA in a tour bus collecting whatever he wants: famous paintings, dinosaur skulls, Dorothy's ruby slippers, expensive wine, and the presidential seal. Each town and city he drives through, he uses the speaker system to call out for anyone else who is alive. He also posts notices all over that he is living in Tucson and come find him because he's exceptionally lonely (and desperately horny). Now, if you were the only person left on Earth, with no electricity or running water, would you go to Tucson? Land of 120 degree temperatures? Large snakes and spiders? No air conditioning? Hell no! It would be like living in Hell. See, he's not very smart.

What would you do if you were the last person on Earth? Chemical sensitivity makes one feel isolated, but what would it be like if there were no other people around to poison you?

I'd hit the road. Not necessarily to find other people as I think that could pose a problem in terms of safety. The series Revolution clearly spelled out the dangers one would face if all technology died. Survival is not a pretty sight if others [evil people] are still around. (I learn a lot watching TV!) However, eventually, I'd get curious. If I'm alive, it stands to reason someone else is still alive. I'd go searching just to make sure I'm the only one left. Rather than drive aimlessly looking for people, I'd have a plan. First, I'd find myself a gun, a crowbar, and a U-Haul. Eventually I might trade the U-Haul in for a really snazzy sports car like a Porsche or a four-wheel drive, but for now I need to gather supplies as I travel. I'd stock up on organic bedding and linens, healthy canned foods, gardening supplies, toilet paper, clothes, face masks, camping supplies, tools, more guns, a generator, first aid supplies, and lots of bottled water. I know someone who is a survivalist and she advises to have these things already stocked in your house just in case. Hmmm... I'd ransack Whole Foods. I might snatch a Monet or Rembrandt along the way, but only if it's convenient. I'd fill my U-Haul and head for temperate climates.

California, here I come! I think just north or south of San Francisco would be awesome. Near the ocean. Maybe Carmel. Not too hot not too cold. I'm sure I could find a lovely house with a nice sports car in the garage. Something with a pool. And lots of land with fruit trees and garden space. Or maybe I'd head down to San Diego to find Jason Mraz's avocado farm? That would be good. I could live off of avocados. Heck, maybe he survived? (Since I'm fantasizing I might as well make it good.)


The main character of this show is such a doofus he doesn't seem to have a clue how to survive or the inclination to think beyond one day. In the first episode he's living off packaged junk food and laying in a kiddie pool filled with alcohol while he drinks it from a long straw. The dream of all stupid people. I do understand it's all about the entertainment value, but even with this show the boredom of laziness takes it's toll and he decides to kill himself. It's the most ignorant attempted suicide I've ever seen, but again, it's just for entertainment. The star of the show isn't going to die in the first episode.

It's implied there is no meat since meals are made from "raisin balls" so I assume no animals survived? If they did in my apocalyptic world, I'd have to find some cows and bring them back to my new house in Carmel.  Chickens, sheep and a horse, too. If there aren't any animals, then I'd be living off canned foods until I can get a garden started. California would be good for some year round gardening.

If no animals survived then no dogs did either. That would be my dream. If humans died, but dogs didn't that would be very bad with all those hungry homeless hounds forming packs and looking for food. I'd have to arm myself with several [machine] guns. I'm going to have to ransack Cabelas, the hunter's vortex for all killing supplies.


The most obvious worry for me aside from starving dogs or surviving psychopaths would be you'd never want to need medical attention. Injuries or illnesses, even minor ones, might be life threatening. This is why I think the doofus's plan to drive himself in to a rock was really lame. If he didn't die, he could be in a whole lot of misery. I wonder what happened to all the dead people? This show is a comedy so a lot of the back story is ignored. Dead, rotting, diseased bodies all over? That could be a problem. Stores filled with rotten meat? It could get ugly.

With a generator I could use a washing machine. I wouldn't want to hand wash clothing or bedding. I can't imagine. That would be my worse nightmare. Water quality would be an issue as well as finding and maintaining a supply of quality food. What other negatives would there be?

Since this is my fantasy, I'll avoid thinking about negatives and just concentrate on how wonderful it would be. I'd spend my days gardening, harvesting food, gathering supplies, walking the beach and exploring. No crappy people, no dogs, no computers, no television, no money, no taxes, and lots of free stuff. The world would be my Freecycle. I would love being the last woman on Earth.

What would you do if you were the last person on Earth?

The Dying Art of Conversation, or My Abnormally Un-Social Life

I've been feeling a little crazy lately. Slightly bored, more depressed than I care to admit. Thankfully, when I stopped taking those thyroid drugs I started feeling much better, but a feeling of mundane-ness has crept into my existence. I'm really bored with life. With everything. Life feels meaningless.

I attempted to find a job of sorts. A friend of mine suggested I apply to be the part-time cook/grocery shopping assistant to a chemically sensitive man also suffering from a list of other ailments that have forced him to be home-bound and gluten-free. My friend erroneously led me to believe (OK, let's be truthful...she LIED!) he was having a hard time finding an assistant because they were all incapable of being fragrance free.

What seemed to be the perfect position and the perfect solution to my mundane-ness ended up being the interview from hell. Wow! I thought I was socially inept! This guy took it to a whole new level screaming at me every time I answered a question, responding with snarky comments every time I asked one, and micromanaging the way I spoke to him, the way I walked, how I moved, and what I touched. It was scary and I questioned if his anti-social behavior was the consequence of too much isolation. Or self-indulging entitlement? Have too many people been paid to cater to his every whim because of his illness? Will my reclusion contribute to this kind of personality disorder? Am I already as bad as he is? God, I hope not! Needless to say, I'm not that desperate for something to do and I do have enough self-respect not to want to be abused even for pay. However, turning down the job left me wallowing in disappointment. This did not help my disposition.


Then out of the blue a former acquaintance emailed me. She was the librarian at my college years ago, always kind, helpful and friendly, and she was the first person to ever buy my art. She still has a painting and a drawing of mine hanging on her wall and this made her wonder what had become of me. How joyous to re-connect with someone from the past!

We exchanged a couple emails before I panicked. I tend to write a lot. I can't be around possibly stinky people so writing from a distance is my social life. I have found some people don't like so much writing and they definitely don't like the unspoken requirement of reading it. I'm from the old-school letter writing tradition where one was taught to converse. Conversing is sharing in conversation: I talk about something; they respond with similar experiences or anecdotes. They share; I respond. I ask a question; they answer the question. They ask a question; I answer the question. This adds to the length of any writing endeavor.

Conversing, as well as letter-writing, is a lost art.  I've had several experiences with email exchanges where emailers write what seems to be some kind of personal form letter. Like a photocopied holiday letter to be sent to a couple hundred people. The email could have been written to anyone, I just happen to be the recipient. Or one of the recipients. In turn, as the recipient, I am expected to either not respond, or like the emailer, talk only about myself. Asking questions requires a person's commitment to the conversation. It's too much work and if I ask a question, it will go unanswered or I'll be told they don't have time to write just now. It's so fucking impersonal, but this is modern communication. Even bloggers don't converse - they talk about themselves to themselves and they are advised to keep their paragraphs very short so readers won't lose interest. We've become a society of self-centered, impatient people with short-attention spans. If you can't make your point in 140 Twitter-ish characters, don't bother trying to make it at all! This is fine unless one lives alone, isolated out in the middle of no where with little social interaction. I want to converse in writing with thoughtful, intelligent people who have something to say. I use email like most people use their telephones. I realize this is not normal, but welcome to my abnormally unsocial life.

Anyway, so when faced with a potentially new friend, I have to control my impulse to write novel-length emails. I don't do this well. And I apologize profusely for my verbosity, which I do very well. I'm sure this makes them question what is wrong with me. After a while my writing slows down, emails get relatively shorter, and may even cease for long periods of time, but until the newness wears off I pray the recipient doesn't freak out too much. 

It was such a fun experience re-connecting with this woman I thought maybe I need to be less isolated and make myself more available to other past associates? I've had a Facebook account for a couple years, but it's been functioning in the highly private "only me" mode. For a while I was using it for news feeds from my favorite websites, but I have been ignoring it for the last couple years as my blog functions in the same way.

I logged into Facebook to have a look and my brother's girlfriend had friended me. My brother recently told me his girlfriend complained and wondered why I hated her. I was baffled and since my brother thinks computers are the Devil and knows nothing about them, he thought I blocked her emails or something. Now I know she somehow circumvented all my privacy options and found me on Facebook. She has been waiting for months (?) for me to accept her friend request. No wonder she's pissed.

Hmmm...I admit I am social-media resistant especially to Facebook. In my opinion it uses the concept of a computer virus to spread disingenuous friendship to desperate people with low self-esteem. Would it provide any meaningful connections? If I go public maybe old friends can find me and want to converse? What happen to the concept of pen pals anyway? I want a pen pal!

I updated my Facebook information and plumped it up with favorite movies, books, TV shows, and general likes. It was very self-centered and it reminded me of when we, as identity-deprived teenagers, used to invent and fill out those favorite things questionnaires. I added some photos of art to splash in some color and personalize it. Although I didn't add any private photos of people, even adding art felt like a violation of privacy. My eagerness to connect inspired me to be brave and venture forth.

I started with one friend. Just one (1), but one I knew I liked with whom I shared similar interests. The program kept reminding me I had ONE friend like a huge neon sign. Taunting me. This did not make me feel loved nor connected. In fact it made me feel like worthless crap. There is something very hypnotic about the numbers.

Suddenly I wanted MORE friends, regardless of whether they were real friends or not, so I started adding distant relatives and acquaintances, including my brother's girlfriend.  Facebook is designed to feed one's self-esteem. We want to feel loved, liked, and connected, even if it's just a number.

Before I knew it I had my own very small stable of trophy friends who were posting positive affirmations, computer game scores, computer game invites, photos of desserts, and videos of babies and animals doing cute things. It reminded me of when email first became popular and everyone was forwarding mindless affirmation chain letters and we'd all get the same illustrated joke twenty times a day. Even then I didn't want to play. Obviously someone invented a way to harness all that brainless forwarding only now it's called sharing. Like kindergarten.

Everything has a like button. I liked the posts, photos, and comments of others, and in response, they liked mine. We liked each other. It should have done wonders for my self-esteem, but it felt like back in grade school when it was very important for classmates to like you. I felt rebellious and angry. If no one liked my post was it bad? Fuck you, people, it was certainly likeable! Why did they like that photo but not like that photo? Fuck you, people, that photo is just as good! Am I that insecure that I need this constant validation?  It felt so wrong. So judgmental yet impersonal. All they were doing was clicking on an icon. I know everyone meant well and was doing exactly what was expected to make me feel welcome and liked. This is what one does with Facebook, yet I felt so violated and manipulated. It was stressful.

I kept questioning if I was feeling this way because I'm so isolated. Am I just reclusive and anti-social? Am I just not good at playing this social game? Probably all of the above. Posts limited to mere phrases offered very little in the way of conversing opportunities. This was disappointing. I'm not interested in superficial connections. Heck, I feel more connected to people when I make anonymous comments on an article. Even when I get a thumbs-down for my opinions! I backed away from Facebook by reinstating more privacy options. I stopped friending people and unfollowed many.

I was told by my Facebook mentors to concentrate on the benefits, ignore the irritating, and to remember why I activated the account in the first place: to be more accessible to old friends. In addition I should lower my expectations to non-conversational, short-attention-spanned, self-centered, old friends. This, of course, makes me question the point, and while I'm questioning the point, Facebook is still bullying me with People You May Know because they believe it IS really about the numbers.

Just when I felt the whole horrible experience had been a waste of time one of my ex-best friends from junior high friended me! This was someone I haven't had any contact with for nearly a lifetime so you can imagine my shock and delight. She claimed she had been searching for me for years although I find it hard to believe since I do have a web presence. I think she had been limiting her search to just Facebook, and suddenly, there I was! I was so excited to be found as if I never existed before! (Shit. No...Facebook does NOT define me!) I sent her a chat message and she sent a short chat reply saying she'd email. That was it. No conversation. No catching up. I anxiously waited for connection to happen. I guess I'm just a trophy friend, just another number. It's been over two weeks and we've not connected at all. I'm sure she's very busy keeping tabs on her 453 friends who make her feel very liked.  She doesn't have time. Very disappointing.

I'm not finding Facebook meaningful, but I have hope maybe there is someone out there who wants to converse and they will find me. Until then, I have my blog, a place I can talk to myself and write as much as I want.

I love my blog.

Note: Thank you to those who do allow me to email you constantly. You have no idea how much it means to me.

 

Entertainment, Part One: Introduction

Enough of this doom and gloom, it's time for entertainment! Having fun is what makes life enjoyable. Unfortunately with MCS, we are often faced with denying ourselves fun so we can be healthy.

My self-imposed exile and isolation on the edge of civilization has been difficult, but the main reason I was missing city life is the forfeiture of entertainment venues I had come to enjoy.  Giving up toxic activities was a requirement and moving away also helped removed the temptation. Initially, I resented having to deny myself these simple pleasures so many take for granted and I wondered if the improvement in health was worth sacrificing my soul. I began searching for non-toxic or less toxic entertainment options that would fulfill my need for fun so I wouldn't feel like such a martyr.

Most of my favorite activities involved people and anytime there are large numbers gathering for any reason, there is always stink. It doesn't matter how many times you ask people to be fragrance-free or whatever effort you make to communicate the need for unscented products, the more people involved, the more risk. At least one person will not understand what fragrance-free means and all it takes is one person to pollute the shared air. 

After years of failed group entertainment experimentation, I've learned to enjoy my own company. The stress and frustration was too exhausting. Making the adjustment from being a social butterfly to an antisocial recluse took about two years and during that period I thought I'd go stir crazy! After a while it was just easier to be alone or with one other person who I could trust to be unscented and safe. There are times I still wish I could participate in group events, but for the most part, I prefer the solitude. I like the quiet, lack of drama and lack of stress. Mix chemical sensitivity with people and there is always drama and stress!

Other enjoyable forms of entertainment involved handling toxic materials, art, for example. I researched and sampled all kinds of alternatives and replaced old methods and supplies with less toxic ones. Trial and error is always a risk as even minor exposures can wreak havoc on your well-being.  I also found ways to protect myself so I could do poisonous activities and live to tell about it.


Entertainment and activities I can't do anymore:

parties

dinner parties

fancy restaurants

concerts

nightclubs

bars

theater

air travel

girl shopping

city walking

art

family gatherings

holiday dinners

reunions

weddings

conferences

Entertainment and activities I can do with limitations:

outdoor activities
restaurants
art
cooking/baking
sewing
gardening
museums
computer fun
DVDs
reading
road trips

It's been an adjustment, no doubt. I focus on what I can do. I try not to dwell on what I can't do. And I'm constantly trying to tweak the rules to find better and safer options.

I'll discuss some of the larger entertainment categories in the next few posts. As usual, every person with MCS has a different story to tell with a variety of experiences and different levels of sensitivities. There are activities I can enjoy that won't be possible for others, and there are things I like to do that others wouldn't consider fun at all!

Redefining Friendship

friend \frend\ n  -s  1 a : one that seeks the society or welfare of another whom he [she] holds in affection, respect, or esteem or whose companionship and personality are pleasurable.

friend (frĕnd) n  -s 1. A person who one knows, likes, and trusts.

My father's definition of friendship: "Everyone is your best friend until they fuck you over." So eloquent. Thanks, dad.

Losing people I thought were my friends was probably the most difficult aspect of being chemically sensitive.  We always think true friendship can survive all kinds of trials and tribulations, through thick and thin, good and bad, ups and downs, in sickness and in health. Maybe I was confusing friendship with marriage?  Actually I've seen some ugly marriages and I always thought friendship was on a higher level.

After about a year of being chemically sensitive, all my friends disappeared.  Some moved away, but most refused to give up their perfumes. Their addiction was far more important than many years of friendship.  In some cases, I was a royal pain. Exposing chemically sensitive people to perfumes makes them feel lousy. When people feel lousy, they tend to have less patience and get bitchy. It was a vicious circle. Irritability being a symptom of chemical sensitivity only made matters worse. But aren't real friendships supposed to survive hell or high water? Why were my friends different? Don't they watch the same sitcoms and movies I do? The ones where friends stick by you no matter what?  It forced me to question the meaning of friendship.

In all cases, I became too difficult, too high maintenance.  I always thought being high maintenance was a joke describing a woman who expects people to cater to her every need while she wears too much make-up, big hair, and god-awful clothes . Oh, and very high heels that made it impossible for her to walk fast.

For someone with MCS, high maintenance means you aren't convenient, easy-going, and spontaneous. Instead, you might even be tired, worried, stressed-out, sick, apprehensive, cautious,  impatient, irritable, and reclusive. If you can't work, you might be poor, too. Or need help. Unfortunately, that makes you un-fun on too many levels or...high maintenance.

The Un-Fun Friend

Even the simplest encounters must be planned in detail. For instance, very recently I was asked to go to a movie. I stood there staring like a deer caught in headlights speed-listing in my head all the problems with this normally mundane suggestion:

Where is the theater?

Does it involve driving long distance?

In a smelly car?

Does the car have air fresheners in it?

Does the car stink in general?

Will my friend mind if I drive?

Does my friend use stinky soap?

Does my friend use smelly laundry detergent?

Does the theater pop smelly, fake popcorn?

Microwave stinky, fake nacho cheese?

Is the theater crowded?

Does my friend want to go at night or on the weekend when it will be crowded?

What will happen if I have to leave because it's too smelly?

Suppose I decide to go and suffer exposure?

Suppose the exposure makes me surprisingly bitchy?

Can I afford to be sick for the next week?

Would it be worth the sacrifice of health?

Will my friend get mad if we have to forfeit the cost of the movie ticket?

Will I need to find something else to do if my friend opts to stay?

Will my friend be angry if he/she ends up at the movie alone?

If I ask these questions will I seem too worried? Too paranoid? Too high maintenance?

Do I really want to ask all these questions?

Isn't it just easier if I say no and let my friend find someone less high maintenance?

This definitely isn't low maintenance! Usually it's easier to say, Hmmm, sorry, I've got plans/I gotta work/I don't like Tom Cruise rather than suffer the risk of someone thinking I'm too weird for company.

Friendships are no longer easy and the stress of even trying is often overwhelming. This has made me very leery of people. I second guess their intentions and their capability of being a friend. It takes a lot of stamina to be a friend to someone with MCS. Knowing this, I keep people at a distance because it is sometimes easier not to have friends than to be disappointed.

Most people don't understand chemically sensitivity which makes it worse. It feels like I am fighting with them all the time trying to get them to understand and that in itself is very exhausting and stressful. They forget and show up at my house with perfume on or ask me to smell them to see if their new shampoo will kill me. It's a catch-22. If I don't constantly remind them to be fragrance-free, they'll forget, but if I do remind them, they're going to get tired of me being so damn high maintenance.

In addition, I get really excited when I meet a new, potential friend but the impending disappointment looms over me like a big, black cloud.  When will they decide I'm too difficult? I walk on egg shells for fear I'll be too much trouble and I expect like everyone else, they will decide I am.  I watch what I say because in my life of isolation I wonder if I've lost my social skills or if I might appear too desperate for companionship. The whole process is a pain in the ass and makes me want to stay home with my rabbit. He rarely gives me grief and likes me just the way I am. He is the perfect friend.

Before I wrote this post I looked up the word friend in the dictionary, because truthfully, I wasn't sure what it meant and I was hoping a definition would give me guidance. This is entry number seven from Webster's Third New International Dictionary:  

friend \'frend\ n -s 7 : a troublesome acquaintance : one causing or likely to cause annoyance.

I was wrong. I've got loads of friends!