Weathering the Storm: Part 3
Loneliness:
‘Lonely is just one word chosen to represent so much
To tell of feelings inside that the senses cannot touch
Lonely can be in the teardrops on a bereaved person’s cheek
Lonely can be in the silence of sorrows too deep to speak
Lonely can haunt a deserted room that Laughter once made proud
Lonely surrounds you when you’re alone or finds you in a crowd
Lonely is heard in echoed footsteps of a departing friend
Lonely penetrates the solitude of nights that will not end
Lonely will not listen to the pleadings of a broken heart
Lonely stays and torments until new Love shatters it apart’
Love Wins
I’ve toyed with writing this for a while now. Speaking about anxiety, depression, heartbreak; they seem easy in comparison. They have been, to a certain extent, normalised over the last few years (this is a very good thing). Loneliness though still seems taboo, a sign of weakness perhaps, especially when talking about a socially mobile person.
Being alone and loneliness are two very different things though and I have found in the last couple of years that it is absolutely possible to feel very lonely even when surrounded by a great support network. Ironically some of the times that I have felt most trapped in the metaphorical cell of loneliness, I have in fact been with those whom I love the most and indeed who love me.
I think the sad irony is that I’m the one who is responsible for my imprisonment. I have the key but for some reason it is always just out of reach, misplaced, or foolishly put in the hands of someone else.
Traditionally we think of loneliness as an affliction of those in their later years, restricted by movement or with a diminishing circle of friends. A result of increased isolation, long periods of separation from loved ones. In reality though loneliness is, very simply put, a mismatch between our desired and realised amounts of quality social contact. With this simple definition in mind, it’s easy to see why and how loneliness can affect anyone of any age, especially during a time of restricted social movement such as that more recently experienced globally due to Covid. In fact, one pre Covid study suggested that 25% of adults between the age of 18 and 27 reported having no close friends. Unfortunately the last 18 months have meant even those with close friends have not been able to have the quality time with friends so crucial to maintaining good mental health.
Unfortunately, because loneliness and the feelings associated with it are so subjective, it’s manifestations can be so varied. It can become both the cause and effect of mental health deterioration. A negative feedback loop that precludes people from having their needs met.
I first began to understand that some of the hurt I was feeling inside was loneliness towards the end of a very loving and caring relationship. Increasing amounts of time spent apart, feeling physically and sexually undesirable and increasing mental health struggles helped to complete the feedback loop. Already dwindling self confidence took a nosedive, self destructive behaviours became a comfort blanket. Alcohol and drugs were used to numb the pain and ironically push my partner further away. Plucking up what little courage I had to confront what I knew so little about, I tried to tell my girlfriend that I felt lonely. How do you explain to the person you love and indeed who loves you that it feels as though they are just out of reach, that you feel empty, alone, unwanted? Leaving me as confused as to how to rectify it as she was.
Hindsight offers a clarity of thought seldom available where heightened emotions are involved. It’s only 2 years after the event that I feel able to slightly better articulate those feelings of loneliness. In my case as with many of my mental health problems, the root cause stems from within. My lack of self confidence, of real direction in life, the continuing success of my girlfriend’s law career and her designs on life all contributed to a deep sense of unworthiness, isolation and ultimately loneliness.
Loneliness for me it seems is born out of an inability to find peace within myself, to be able to be look inwards and be happy with the person I am or where I am at in life. The last two years have been about learning to face these inner demons, to sit with them, to question them and ultimately answer the negative spin they put on my actions, experiences and current situation with realism. I think it’s important not to drown out the inner dialogue with positivity, but to see what is being said and counter it with honesty. I know that I have made mistakes a plenty in my 40 years of living, but for the most part, I have learned from these mistakes and they have shaped the person I am now. They have moulded me into someone who acts with honesty and integrity. I have learned and am still learning to pay less attention to the wine and roses that live on social media. Comparisons to other people are bad enough, but comparisons to my perception of other people’s lives as seen through the pinhole of various different media can be a very dark path to take, and ultimately one rarely based on truth.
Photography has provided me with a sense of pride and self worth I have rarely felt before and certainly not one as sustained as this. It also gives moments of mindful stillness which hitherto I have sought in slightly riskier past times. Learning to recognise this pride in my own work has been a key component of building my self confidence. Knowing that I am essentially a good person and learning not to compare myself to others but instead enjoy the journey that I am on has been crucial to creating space between myself and my negative inner voice. I have room to breathe now and I am choosing to respond rather than react to situations, both internal and external.
All of this means that slowly I am learning that I am enough, and with that, my definitions of social contact and rewarding relationships are changing. I’m much less looking for people to fill a void within, but to complement me. I have developed a much more caring attitude towards myself and an openness to vulnerability and honest communication with friends and loved ones. Criticism is not always an attack but instead an opportunity to reflect on how I could have acted differently, a chance to grow. If someone takes the time to offer an insight they have, it’s because they care and feel that it can help.
The Covid era has perhaps forced people to communicate more honestly and effectively. The legacy of this is a good one, people are more willing, and perhaps because they can now empathise on some level, are more able to listen to people who speak out about their struggles. On a personal level, although I still have pangs of loneliness (meeting up with my ex and her partner, missing out on certain adventures with friends, missing the financial freedom that pre Covid/injury afforded) and these can result in hours of tears and questions. Crucially I am not alone when I do this, I talk to friends and loved ones. This helps the feelings of loneliness to ebb and gives me the room to focus on looking after myself.
Ultimately, my one take away from these last couple of years of learning is that love wins. Love for myself, my friends and family and the love felt from everyone I’ve met along the way has shown me that whatever I face, I am stronger and better able to deal with it when I have love. That starts with me and emanates from there.
In the context of loneliness, let’s not let the return to relatively normal life allow us to forget the valuable lessons we can choose to learn. I intend to be more present for myself and my friends, to be open about my mental health journey and thus create space for others to feel comfortable to speak or seek help.