Loneliness is an awful, solemn feeling. Nobody denies that.
We’ve all probably had points in our lives when we’ve felt utterly alone, literally and figuratively. I know I have. There have been times when I’ve just laid in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling, and feeling like I’m in this dark prison cell that I can never escape. I don’t care who you are or how tough you think you are. That feeling hurts on a fundamental level.
Human beings are social creatures. That’s not an opinion. That’s a tangible, fundamental aspect of our species. No matter how much of a rugged individualist you think you are, we still need some level of social interaction to maintain our mental well-being. It doesn’t have to be overly elaborate. It just has to be there.
I make this point because there has been increasing talk of a loneliness epidemic. And it’s something that the COVID-19 pandemic did plenty to intensify. I know I felt it at times. I’m sure others felt it far worse than me. And even though the worst of the pandemic is behind us, those lingering feelings of loneliness are still there.
Now, I don’t claim to be an expert. I also won’t try to offer some contrived bullshit solution that a life coach might charge someone for. That’s not my style. All I can do is share my own experience and how I’ve dealt with loneliness in the past.
Because years ago, especially when I was out of college and starting off on my own, I felt pretty damn lonely. In college, I was surrounded by people my age. And even though I had awful social skills, poor self-image, and lingering personal problems that started in high school, I took some comfort in knowing I was surrounded by others like me. Even if I didn’t interact with them as much as I wish I had, I felt like we were all sharing the same struggles that came with going to class, studying for exams, and budgeting our limited money.
Then, I graduated and got out into the real world. Suddenly, I was in an environment where I was expected to fend for myself. Even though I had a wonderful family who supported me every step of the way, it was overwhelming. I felt isolated and lonely, wondering if I was strong enough to handle all of this.
Keep in mind, I still lived with others at the time. Even after I moved out of my parents’ house, I went through a period in which I lived in shared houses and apartments with other people. Most were around my age. And for the most part, I got along with these people. At one point, I lived in this large suburban house with five other people who all met on Craigslist. It’s not quite as chaotic as it sounds, but I was rarely ever completely alone in that place.
But I still felt lonely. I still felt isolated, even though my parents were just a 20-minute drive away. Those were difficult times.
However, I did get through it. Things did get better.
Now, as I write this, I live alone. I have my own place and I have no roommates. I’m also single, at the moment. I was single throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, as well.
And yet, I don’t feel nearly as lonely as I did during those years when I lived in a shared home. I don’t even feel as lonely as I did in college, despite being on a large campus surrounded by people in a similar situation.
I know that sounds like a paradox, but it’s the truth. I can only do so much to explain why I feel this way. I’ll only say that loneliness is an easy feeling to fall into without much effort. And it takes a lot more effort to actually escape it.
By that, I don’t mean pushing yourself to go out, meet people, and make new friends just to feel less lonely. That’s a mistake I see a lot of people making, especially socially awkward people like I was for much of my early life. If your reason for making friends is to just be less lonely, then you’re not making friends for the right reasons. And if you’re trying to talk to people just to feel less lonely, that’s just as bad a reason. That essentially turns your social interactions into something selfish.
It’s not about actually wanting to meet peole and be their friends. It’s about you and making yourself feel better.
That’s not a healthy mentality. And I freely admit I had that mentality for a good chunk of my early 20s. Growing out of it took time, as well as a concerted effort. It also required efforts that went beyond just improving my inherently poor social skills.
I’ve noted before how hard it was for me to get into shape after having many unhealthy habits throughout my life. I didn’t start working out regularly until I was almost 30 and when I started, it took a while for me to really feel the benefits. And while it might not have been my primary goal, working on myself and trying to be healthier really helped me feel less lonely.
Beyond just improving my mental well-being and self-image, it made me much more comfortable in my own skin. I feel like it sent a message to myself that I care enough about myself to put in the effort to be better, even when it requires spending an hour at the gym or running through freezing weather in the middle of January. Once that message sank in, I felt more confident to connect with others for the right reasons.
At the same time, my general social skills and communication skills had improved to a point where I really felt the benefits. It showed in how I interacted with family and friends. It showed in how I interacted with total strangers, both in real life and online. And during the COVID-19 pandemic, I leaned on those new skills to help me feel connected with others.
Those connections didn’t have to be big or elaborate. One thing that really helped was scheduling regular Zoom calls with my siblings and parents. That ended up helping me make entirely new connections because I met a lot of my siblings’ friends that I usually don’t get to interact with. Later on, once the pandemic faded, I met up with them in real life and it was a great experience. It felt like a true mark of progress that I didn’t realize I was achieving.
And if I can achieve that kind of progress, then I’m confident everyone reading this can as well. Yes, there are still times when I feel lonely. But it’s a feeling that doesn’t hit nearly as hard as it once did. Even though I live alone at the moment, I never feel the same crippling isolation I used to feel years ago.
For that, I’m grateful to the friends I’ve made in that time.
And I’m even more grateful to my parents and family, who were there for me during those times.
I realize I’m very lucky in some regards. Not everyone can enjoy the opportunities I’ve had. But we’re all capable of confronting loneliness in our own unique way. And I sincerely hope that by sharing my experience, others can draw strength from it.