Writing about loneliness for the Guardian
I was thrilled to get an email from the Guardian a few days ago, asking for an article about my experience with loneliness. The editor and I both agreed that we wanted the piece to be very personal, and I had no trouble writing about the worst aspects of my loneliness. The article is about my past, but since I’ve been feeling really lonely here in Newfoundland, it was easy for me to access those feelings and really tap into them.
I experienced no stigma anxiety while writing the piece, but yesterday afternoon–after the article was submitted–I was sitting on the stairs, and I thought, “What have I done?” I don’t usually think about numbers, but I knew that the Guardian reaches a lot of readers. And then stigma hit–the feeling that I’d admitted to something I was supposed to keep private, that I might be judged, that people would think I was off my rocker.
But I stuck by my mission statement, which (if you’re new to this blog) is to make lonely people feel less alone. I have a lot of people giving me support in admitting to long-term loneliness–my editors, my agent, my publisher–and I thought, You have to do this.
And now that the piece is out there in the world, I’m hearing from people saying thank you, and that makes it all worthwhile.
This entry was posted on Saturday, May 29th, 2010 at 8:59 am and is filed under the category Stigma of Loneliness.
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13 Responses to “Writing about loneliness for the Guardian”
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Thank you :’)
And thank you from ME too
I can’t say thank you enough for that Guardian article.
The fact that it was such a personal account of those four years was key. It struck so many chords with me that I wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t just the obvious similarities between my own position in life and the one you describe at the start of the article. It was the full list of seemingly unconnected internal states and events that struck me: the feeling of slipping away, vagueness, memory loss, having intense conversations with yourself, jealousy of other people with loved ones, and most of all the acknowledgement that you can’t stay the same person when you’re lonely….all these things have been with me for the last 12 months but I hadn’t tied it all together under one heading. So reading your account of them just blew my mind.
I can’t really put in words what you’ve done for me. I’m not really sure of that myself yet. Just don’t ever feel writing that article wasn’t worth it. Thank you, a million times thank you.
I also want to thank you for the Guardian piece. I just wish I had the guts to tweet about it, but I was too afraid of the stigma. I did start following your tweets though, but it is not the same.
I just read your Guardian article and I was so moved by it. I have been experiencing similar feelings, perhaps not as intensely, but the pattern is not too different. Thanks for such a beautiful, sincere article. Loneliness has become a taboo topic in our society and it needs to be addressed with frankness and compassion.
I just also wanted to say thank you for the Guardian article. I will definitely read your memoir. I really think it’s so courageous to speak out about a state that so many people deny is real. I am going through similar for the last few years, also partially (though not only) through the death of parent, and also find it deeply frustrating how many fair-weather friends deny the reality of the state and do a disappearing act. It is really reassuring to me to be reminded that I am not the only one and that the sense of social marginalisation can be overcome.
Great article. I found the final comment about family and friends not enquiring if you were OK particularly relevant. I’ve had surgery for cancer and where is obvious if someone really takes notice of my appearance (someone who knew me before surgery that is not to mention my wig is slightly different to my usual hair style) and recently went to an elderly aunt’s funeral yet interestingly no one seemed to notice nor has been in contact since to ask if I was OK as I didn’t look quite myself.
The other day I read an article on the important of friendship in New Idea (Australian women’s magazine) which contained tips on how to go about making friends. Even though very good it missed the point that the other person has to also want to connect, otherwise no matter how skilled you are at approaching people and iniating friendships it just won’t happen. I’m feeling more and more that it’s not just about increasing the friendship related skills of lonely people but it’s about shifting the focus onto encouraging others to always be open to new people in their lives and how this can happen regardless of busy lives (eg including in current friendship and friendship group activities for starters) and generally keeping an open attitude about people, for example, ensuring a new person at work is advised of and invited to communal activities. I remember when I first started my current job the person I was replacing who was leaving mentioned a few people from other sections in similar jobs were taking her out for a farewell lunch yet she didn’t think to invite me along to help me meet those people early.
Strange how I have spent so many nights lately analysing the very feelings I read in your article in the Guardian… It does not change much but this distant echo seems to fill some gap in the chasm of my despair. Humans are social animals – on our own we are lost in the wilderness. Evenings nights weekends are overwhelmingly lonely and my very soul is wiltering. Thank you for expressing the isolation so many people suffer in silence.
I felt a lurch of recognition as I read your beautifully written article yesterday. It was so acute about how loneliness/isolation changes you. I’ll certainly get your book. Thank you.
I liked the article too! I was horribly lonely during high school even despite being in a house with my family. I would get in the car to drive some place, by myself, and I would get halfway to somewhere before just breaking down in tears and turning back- what’s the point? I wondered… I’ll just stand among people who are having fun with each other, and I won’t have anyone to talk to. I’ll feel worse observing others’ non-loneliness.
I hated going to coffee and tea shops by myself and just sitting in those days.
Now, living in a place where I don’t know very many people, sometimes I even pause amidst the huge amount of work I have to do and feel lonely.
My dogs do help fill the space though. And I have a husband now, who helps but doesn’t eliminate the problem.
I too have carefully ripped the page out of the Guardian and Emily’s article is now filed away where I can always return to it. I will get round to buying the book – but maybe wait for the paperback..!
It is remarkably resonant for me, a part of the jigsaw for explaining my own mental states since childhood, torn between the real craving for solitude and the sadness of loneliness. It was so timely to read, having just experienced a slow descent during a period working away from home, from the initial joy of considering myself alone but in positive charge of my destiny, to the unreality, disconnectedness and yes the dumbing down, where I couldn’t even open the books which had been meant to act as my intellectual companions.
Thank you Emily, and the Guardian.
I second everyone’s comments about the article. Do you suppose we were “sisters” in a previous life? ha! For example, talking to myself to the point of working to a state of tears?…that’s me! Journaling?…..that’s me too! I have burned past journals over the years so in the event of my death no one would ever be able to read them and think… “wow, I would have never guessed she was that disturbed.” ..ha! Seriously, thank you so much for taking the risk and putting yourself out there to be vulnerable….by reading your blog and the posts from others perhaps I will find the hope that I’m not crazy….I’m not “wired wrong” or any of the other things I felt being so lonely for so many years. I’m going to go and see if I can buy your book on Kobo….and begin the process! Again…THANK YOU so much!
I grew up in Holland and was very lonely during puberty, when I went to high school. I’d lost my father when I was 10 years old. My mother was a damaged survivor of the shoah (holocaust). I used to sit at home on weekends knowing that my school friends were getting together or going skating and I swote to myself that the next Sunday would be different, which of course it wasn’t. years of walking with our dog in the evening, in order to have something to do. I also invented a fictitious boyfriend, because all my girfriends had a boyfriend. Nowadays I know that I was more of a lesbian, but we’re talking the 50′s here, i didnot even know that word. I had a life after those horrible teenage years, was involved in all kinds of social activism, lived together with a man for a couple of years, broke up with him, got back to him, broke up again, moved to another country…. I have had years of feeling less lonely but the basic feeling of loneliness and of being ‘different’and maybe crazy never left me. A the moment I am 60, and still experiencing a lot of isolation, even though I have good friends. I’ve lived in Israel for many years, and there it was less lonely, because people interact a lot more and are warmer than they are in Holland. but still, most people are married and get togehter with their often large families and then you feel different again. I think the most lonely thing is trying to cover up your own loneliness for yourself and acting different from how you feel. When i do that I get really depressed.