Loneliness, writing, and Twitter
It’s odd. I just wrote a piece for a British newspaper about loneliness, and it was very personal — about the “voices” that overcame me when lonely, the jealousy I felt, the sense I had that I just might disappear. And I was fine with all this — largely because I didn’t know who was going to be reading the article, or when.
What’s interesting (to me at least) is that, when I try to Twitter about loneliness, I freeze up. And I think that’s because I know exactly who’s going to be reading the tweets. The audience is so clear — I have a list of “followers” — that I can imagine the reactions.
This may sound strange, given that I just published a book about loneliness, but I need a sense of privacy in order to confront and overcome the stigma attaching to loneliness. When I blog, or when I write an article, the audience is very broad. You, my readers, are important, but I don’t know when you’ll be reading the posts, or which posts you’ll read, or which ones you might come back to and read again.
I think that loneliness needs “space,” in a sense. I have that on this blog, but not on Twitter. It will be interesting to see if I can overcome stigma on Twitter and be as personal as I am in Lonely, or on this blog. You can follow my tweets if you wish — but if you do, you’ll see it’s a different me emerge, one that’s a lot less personal, and maybe a bit less honest about my loneliness.
This entry was posted on Friday, May 28th, 2010 at 8:39 am and is filed under the category First Time Writer Stuff, Stigma of Loneliness.
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9 Responses to “Loneliness, writing, and Twitter”
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I just finished reading the book. I am still comtemplating its message. I was delighted to see that you have a current blog. I have experienced a lifetime of loneliness. I will be 58 this year. I am relieved to have a name for the anxiety, the sense of threat, and the heightened sensitivity to noise and light. I believe I have been successful in my attempts to keep the noonday demons away. No one would realize I am lonely. I am socially adept, but continue to observe my social circle shrinking by choice. I have become discriminating in the last 8 years, the time period in which I have experienced the most severe isolation. I have a vibrant spiritual life as a result of living, working and being alone 95% of the time. Reading your book has made me aware of something I couldn’t and wouldn’t name before. I am hopeful that I will continue to make life enhancing choices in the future. I have more strength as a result of what you’ve written. Quite frankly, I’ve learned to say, “No thank you,” to relationships with emotionally unhealthy people. In doing so, and becoming very selective, I’ve discovered emotionally healthy available people are few and far between. But I have found them and am thankful that now, because of your book, I don’t feel like something is wrong with me because I don’t have 1000′s of friends. Thank you.
I just came across this site. I have not yet read your book so I can’t comment on that.
I notice that you feel less isolated when you connect with nature. I’ve always felt two different kinds of loneliness. One I can only describe as feeling a separation from source (God) that is lessened from being in the natural world. This is the loneliness that feels very deep.
The other is a loneliness that I am experiencing more in my 50′s. I am trying to make friends with other women but everyone seems to have their social life already decided. Even though I live with my boyfriend, there is no substitute for close friendships with women. I get particularly lonely when I hear of women getting together with other women friends for a week end getaway etc. I never expected to experience such difficulty in making a deeper friendships but no one seems to have any time. Some times I wonder if I am putting out some negative vibe but I don’t think so. Anyway it’s tough and I feel lonely a lot. And yes it is tough to talk about.
I too would never ever talk about my loneliness on Facebook or Twitter. I’m reading your book right now and it clears up so much for me. Finally I understand some things about myself and my lonely life.
Thank you
I just read your article on the Guardian.. it made me sad. Last year, I was really lonely, I’d looked after my mother through terminal cancer, moved cites, she died, then a relationship break-up.
Hated it all and nothing I could do would make a difference. I could not connect, tried prozac, all sorts. I just lost the ability to inter-act the more lonely and isolated I became.
What made me sad is that no-one said anything to you…do you think people can’t face it? I think my friends did try, but unfortunately some of them didn’t get it and thought I should snap out of it and that I was being self-centred. But I think with me the grieving, depression and everything, at the centre of it all was the awful gut-wrenching loneliness.
I still get it now, but it’s nowhere near as bad.
Can I just say that I read your newspaper article, and it was so fantastic that I put your name in a search engine to find out more about the book. I wanted to comment this on the article, but the newspaper didn’t allow this function – but knowing this newspaper well and its regular commenters well (I’m one myself) I can tell you your article will cause a profound impact with the British readership, even though it might not be apparent. A fine piece, brave and honest, thank you.
Sorry for being a stranger here. I really like your Guardian’s article. The words are beautiful. It touched my heart when I was reading it. I guess when reading those ‘lonely’ words, it makes me feeling not lonely anymore, as I feel I am re-connected to another human being. Thank you!
Emily,
A note of thanks for your words in today’s Guardian. It is always something of cruel irony that it can feel so comforting to have someone else tell of such similar experiences with loneliness. More so when you can relate such familiar and exhausting feelings so much more eloquently than I have the skill or will to muster.
“I couldn’t read as quickly or as well as I used to. I wasn’t as imaginative. I said less. …I began to feel as though I were taking up less space.”
I woke up this morning and came across your text for the first time in the “life and style” (!) of the Guardian. I was captured by the sincerity an simplicity of your writing about subject rarely discussed without prescribing pills.
Fundamentally i think you have described the position of certain type of thinker/writer in this world regardless of physical location. One may feel terrible loneliness in bed with his partner and may be longing for days of “real” loneliness.
I am digesting what you’ve said about writing on Twitter. I can see the difference, now that you express it. When I started following you on Twitter I felt a bit of disappointment as I wasn’t seeing the sharing I was hoping for, the writing I had experienced in the book, and here in the blog. But now I can see how it would have a different feeling for you, since you know who is reading. But remember, Emily, we are there because we identify with you, and we are empathic readers. We are there with you because we want to be. But I guess it IS more intimate, in a way, less “anonymous” for you.