You consume large quantities of valerian, benadryl, kratom, and alcohol to sleep through the weekend as much as humanly possible so as to avoid long Fri/Sat/Sun nights of sitting in your room alone with little to do except hope for the work/school week to return so at least you'll be occupied.

You lie about your not having a cell phone: "Old one's broken, sorry! Gonna buy that new something-or-other pretty soon!"

You lie when people confront you for the fifth time about not having a cell phone: "You know...it's 50 bucks a month...I can't really afford it right now" and not really telling them the truth that "I have absolutely no one to talk to on the phone, so why the hell would I ever get one?!"

You walk around in a real hurry as if you're always late to something, just to avoid seeing the possibly derisive looks of others.

Masturbation becomes the ultimate chore, like repeatedly draining a cyst full of poison, because real sex just ain't gonna happen in this lifetime for you.

You fantasize before sleeping about having sex with someone and then realize "wow, I just completely ruined my own fantasy, I'm so disgusting and gross."

You spend all weekend trying to think up a fake interesting story about your weekend instead of repeating for the thousandth time to your coworkers/peers: "I didn't do much, just relaxed and stayed at home, and you?"

When the highlight of your day is drinking half a fifth of Jagermeister in the morning to ease the pain of waking up yet again. (More like serious alcoholism, but I think it works well enough for loneliness.)

You start talking in different voices to your cat as if they can really understand the different characters you're presenting to them.

You can't go anywhere without having podcasts, music, or radio shows being blasted into your ears so as to avoid awkward small talk and the dead silence of common life.

You wonder with great seriousness what it would be like to not exist again, like before birth. Not suicide (!), just pondering the state of not existing.

You refresh the same forum page fifty times to see if anyone responded to your post in the last five minutes. Obviously, no one has. The refresh cycle nevertheless continues...

You take three hours to type and edit and re-edit a single forum post and still feel really lousy about it after hitting "Submit Reply."

You listen to the great three misanthropic comedians Doug Stanhope, George Carlin, and Bill Hicks all of the time on your mp3 player.

You find that the only thing that shuts up that nagging inner voice of doubt is alcohol, only to find that once sobriety returns, the voice gets angrier and louder. How many drownings can something take?!

You continually read through love emails an ex girlfriend sent three years ago because it's the last time someone actually sent you caring emails.

Your email inbox is full of junk stuff and not anything from actual people.

You deleted your facebook account and not a soul noticed because it was just random people from high school that needed an extra tally on their total number of friends.

You go alone to a show/concert and have to endure the horrific thirty minute pre-show awkwardness when everyone else is with friends and family, and you know they're noticing you being alone.

You can't relate to people your own age, but you do to older people, but the older people can't relate to you because you don't have the extra years put on the speedometer yet, so you're essentially screwed.

The cashier at the grocery store tries to make small talk and you can only stand and stare at them with an open mouth, amazed someone has recognized your existence after shutting away in the house for three days straight, immediately followed by extreme annoyance that you have to struggle to return the small talk, like bricks being forced through a tiny funnel.

The cashier at the grocery store jokes about your alcohol purchase in a way to suggest that you'll enjoy it with other people, and you have to resist the temptation to go, "no, I'm drinking this alone tonight, and every night after that. NOW GIVE ME THE RECEIPT, I SHOWED YOU MY ID ALREADY!"

You stare intently at the chinless, meaty-breasted zilch reflecting back at you in the mirror every morning and think, "figures...," as if your current physical condition were its own horrific stereotype

You continually chuck out boring, mediocre examples of why you're lonely on a message board when you should have quit fifteen examples ago.

You finally have a decent conversation with someone for longer than five minutes, feel somewhat of a connection, only to have them jump up, announce their departure, and leave you in the dust without any form of contact, knowing full well you probably won't be seeing them anytime soon. Not that you'd try to contact them after the encounter anyways.

Sarcasm and hurtful self-deprecation are the only forms of wit you can possibly summon from.

The other person in the conversation actually shows pain on their face for the self-deprecating mark you just made about yourself, and consequently flees from where you're currently standing, never to talk to you again.

You search quotes all night trying to find some inspirational example representative of your current emotional state.

If/when you had a facebook page, it consisted only of long-winded quotes and had no pictures, interests, movies, books, or posts from "friends."

You take long hikes out in nature and continually realize the peaceful ideal of solitude is mostly BS - you're alone and miserable, and most of your thoughts reflect that.

You realize your parents don't really understand you, and they're the only people willing or wanting to spend real time with you, if you're lucky.

You fantasize about a relationship from three years ago because it's the only frame of reference you have for intimate dealings, then you immediately remember how badly you fouled it up, and why it didn't work. Repeat, rinse, and repeat every two days.

You realize that the majority of people on this forum will probably not relate to a single thing you've posted thus far, and are now judging you as quite the odd dysfunctional character.

You realize you just read through part of or the entirety of this list of absolute nonsense.

Ok...enough for now. Time to sleep.