Archive for the ‘Long-term Loneliness’ Category
Sticking with the program
Hello! I received some messages after my last post that made me realize my ironic tone might not be carrying through the blogosphere. No, I won’t be writing about kittens or cakes in my next book. I’m sticking with all of you, and with social isolation and loneliness, for my next book project. That’s my life. That’s my work.
Actually, and this makes me grin, there will be kittens in the next book. One way that I’ve responded to social isolation is through fostering animals (at this stage, one cat, four kittens, two dogs). I also have four cats in the house. Cuteness aside, I’m actually really interested in the role(s) that animals play in the lives of the lonely and socially isolated. I know that my eldest cat, Hodge, who is now 15, has seen me through more solitary times than I can remember.
Feel free to write with your own stories of animal love or comfort. If you post a message to the blog, everyone will be able to see it, and I’m sure many will be able to relate.
Loneliness and Valentine’s Day
Hey, peeps. Due to popular demand, I am writing a blog post on Valentine’s Day. I had to be encouraged to do this, because I seem to be one of the few women in North America missing the “V-Day” gene. Maybe it’s because I’m gay, or because I dislike chocolate, or because cut flowers kind of creep me out, but I’ve never really had emotional trouble with Valentine’s Day. Other, less notorious days, such as the first day of spring, often hit me much harder in terms of loneliness.
I do live in the modern world, however, so whether or not V-Day is significant to me is kind of immaterial. Just like the rest of you, I’ll be subjected to the “cover your lover with chocolate” stories, and the images of hearts and flowers. This is all pretty predictable.
What strikes me as more interesting is the new storyline that’s emerged in the past few years. This one is all about risk and danger. It’s about how being alone and lonely on Valentine’s Day is this toxic, horrible state that just might kill you. Valentine’s seems to have emerged not just as a day to celebrate all things romantic, it’s become a day of getting hysterical about the risks associated with loneliness.
If you’re lonely, prepare yourself for this. Give yourself a day off from the paper and from cable TV. If you see some screaming headline about the risks of loneliness, take a deep breathe and try to ignore it. Yes, loneliness does carry some risks, but so does riding in a car, and we do that all the time. (I’d actually love to see a Risks of Automobile Travel Day, but that’s a different story.) Loneliness isn’t anything to panic about. It’s a natural state of mind, and a natural way to feel if you’re too much on your own.
I’m not saying that loneliness isn’t hard, or that long-term loneliness isn’t awful. Loneliness can be gruelling. But the media isn’t doing lonely people any favours by treating loneliness as some sort of freakish, dangerous disease state. It’s not. It’s a part of being human. It’s what some of us came into the world with a predisposition for. It’s something we have to manage and struggle our way through, but not anything to become alarmed by.
So I wish everyone a calm, non-anxiety provoking Valentine’s Day. If you see a story about the “health risks of loneliness,” skip it. Instead, do something good for your health, like running or taking a walk or writing in a journal. And treat yourself to something nice–good food, chocolates, a bubble bath. And remember that, by February 15th, it will all be over.
Reading Lonely in public
This weekend was the second annual “Sparks” literary festival here in St. John’s. I was invited to read, and initially felt a bit apprehensive about it. All of my work with Lonely has been conducted in the safety of my office. To be out in the middle of a big group of people, reading and talking about loneliness. Well, that was going to be different.
I’m happy to report that the day and the reading went well. There seemed to be a responsiveness among people when I mentioned the words “long term loneliness.” I know that not everyone in the audience had experienced such loneliness, but there seemed to be a real willingness to listen as I talked about what had happened to me. People applauded at the end, and that was just the best.
The reading felt like something of an anniversary. Lonely came out almost exactly a year ago. That means I’ve spent almost twelve months talking about loneliness, either through blogging, or interviews, or editorials. The reading was sort of the crowning achievement of my year. I realized that, after 12 months, I was calm talking about loneliness. I was ready. And that’s an accomplishment. It’s not anything, six years ago, that I thought I’d ever be able to do.
Loneliness and Thanksgiving
Yes, I realize it’s not Thanksgiving here in Canada, but I was raised in an American family, so “U.S. Thanksgiving” has always felt like a holiday to me.
Thanksgiving can be a lonely time. Or, more accurately, the notion of everyone else getting together with loved ones can bring loneliness raging to the fore, leaving you feeling marginalized, isolated, and suffocating with feelings of disconnection.
As a rule, I don’t give advice, but I do have a few words about how to handle loneliness this Thanksgiving: remember that you are not alone. A recent AARP survey showed that 35% of people aged 45+ were struggling with chronic loneliness (and there’s no reason to think that this rate would be dramatically lower in younger age groups). What I will say, instead of giving advice, is that many of the representations of togetherness that you’re confronted with this weekend are a bit of a chimera. Many, many people are leading lonely lives–we’re just, in general, not talking about this.
I watch a lot of Food TV (I find it soothing), and I’m struck by how the dishes being prepared are getting richer and more elaborate just as more people are facing dire financial straits and relying on food banks. There’s a distortion function going on with the food shows: the less people actually have, the more they’re exposed to. And something similar is happening with representations of sociability: the fewer contacts we actually enjoy, the more we’re exposed to images of rich sociability.
I know that this post can’t take loneliness away. But I do hope to provide some context. I’ll say it again: if you’re struggling with loneliness, you’re not alone. Thousands and thousands of people are feeling the same way. Use this fact to be less hard on yourself. I will never say, “Be your own best friend,” (that’s nonsense), but go easy on yourself today. Treat yourself to something. Relax. Try to read. And remember that these feelings of being isolated and marginalized are actually being shared by countless people right now.
Perhaps I would trade the loneliness away
Yesterday, feeling optimistic, I blogged that I might hang on to my loneliness, if someone offered to whisk it away. Today, after a solitary day and a very solitary walk in the snow, am seriously re-thinking this decision. (Not that anyone actually is offering to take my loneliness away, but you can see where I’m going here.)
I think so much depends on the circumstances: How creative am I feeling? How full does my day feel? Am I OK being alone?
And there’s some magic tipping point where all of the above tends to crash in the wrong direction, and solitude gives way to loneliness. And then, yes, OK, I would trade it away.
The only thing I wouldn’t trade away is the ability to write about my loneliness. That’s been so nourishing. So…there I am…back in the maze.
The man who was never lonely
Had a contractor over this weekend, and he asked me what I did. I told him that I was a writer, and when he asked what I’d written, I said, “A book about loneliness.”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “I’ve heard of that. But it’s the funniest thing. I can’t relate to that at all. I’m never lonely. Like, never.”
Now, it would be easy for me to say that this guy was dim-witted, or shallow, or otherwise compromised. But he wasn’t. I’d gotten to know him while he was working on the house, and I found him to be smart, socially engaged, and funny. But never, as he informed me, lonely.
This made me wonder about my own life, about how it would feel to be never lonely. I think of all the lonely people I interviewed, and how many of them said they wouldn’t give up their loneliness, if given the chance. And I realize, despite all the difficulties and health problems and sheer hell that loneliness has brought me, that it’s brought some good things in its wake as well. A sort of sensitivity, a love of solitude, an awareness of the self. I’m not going to get all goofy here and say that loneliness is a good thing, but would I give it up? Would I trade the loneliness I’ve felt for a life in which I was, like the contractor, never lonely?
Would you?
Me, loneliness, and Twitter
First, I want to thank everyone who has decided to “follow” me on Twitter. Second, I want to apologize for being such a lame Twitterer. I just can not get the hang of it.
I don’t understand what the problem is. I mean, I’ve written a 350 page book, and I have no problem blogging. I write every day. But I open my Twitter account, see the little box for the message, and my mind goes blank. This never happens to me. I can write anything. I once faked my way through a securities exam by simply writing down whatever came to mind (and I passed!).
I think the problem is not the message so much as the medium. I find it very strange to know that my thoughts and observances are linked to other people’s networks, and to know that they can be read, searched, and forwarded. Some people probably find this liberating. I find it kind of freaky. And Twitter is not the place to talk about loneliness. I’m good at talking about loneliness. But I can not talk about my loneliness, or social isolation, or anything else “uncool” on Twitter.
Why not? Is the problem me, or is the problem the “network” aspect of the medium? Am I simply replicating online what I do in real life? In real life, I retreat, I leave parties early, I don’t open up to strangers. Am I just doing the same thing on Twitter? Or is there a “majority rules” aspect to social media, one that has the effect of silencing odd or dissenting voices?
I really don’t know what the answer is. I am going to try to continue Twittering: don’t give up on me! But I will close by saying that I completely relate to what several readers have said, which is that social media really open the doors on other people’s lives, and it’s hard not to feel as though your own social life doesn’t live up to what’s “normal.” To counter this feeling, I will close with a stat I just read, which is that roughly 40% of info posted on social networking sites is false…. Hmmm…. maybe this is it. Maybe I just haven’t cottoned on to the fact that not everything you say online has to be true. Maybe I’ll create an “alternate” Emily White, who has 500 friends, and a party every night, and…you can see where I’m going here…Twittering would become easy!