Good morning, America!
Lonely is officially launched in the US as of today, March 9th. I won’t be touring, but I’ll post details of US radio interviews as they materialize.
Interview about Lonely on CBC’s The Next Chapter
My conversation with the wonderful Shelagh Rogers aired on Monday, March 8th, on CBC Radio One. You can listen to the podcast by visiting The Next Chapter.
Are we all fundamentally alone?
A new comment on Lonely has just appeared in Canada’s Globe and Mail. In it, Leah McLaren sums up by saying that we’re all fundamentally alone–that we’re born alone, die alone, and spend time alone during those two pivotal moments.
Leah and I went back and forth on this during my interview, and I respect her right to conclude that loneliness is just part of the human condition, because we’re all so essentially alone. But I really, really disagree with her.
I just don’t think that we are, or are meant to be, fundamentally alone. Social science research is showing the extent to which we need each other–if we’re subjectively or objectively isolated for long periods of time, we die earlier, and–before that death–we have more things go wrong with our bodies. There’s been a wonderful, ongoing experiment conducted on our ability to know when someone is thinking about us (described in the book The Sense of Being Stared At): the experiment shows that some part of our brain can detect human connection, even if the rest of our senses cannot.
I decided when writing Lonely that I would not address the whole notion of “fundamental aloneness,” largely because the idea seemed uninteresting and out of date to me. But many people clearly still think this way. Perhaps it was spending years reading about loneliness and social connection that made me realize how connected we really are — and I probably shouldn’t assume that others are simply going to appreciate these ideas.
I could go on and on here (in fact, I am going on and on), but I think the notion of fundamental aloneness just doesn’t accord with what I strongly suspect to be true: which is that we do most of our growing in relation to others, and that we’re intensely and uncomfortably vulnerable when we do find ourselves–through no choice of our own–on our own too much of the time.
Loneliness and religion — a follow up
If you read some of the older posts on loneliness and religion, you’ll see that I’m leaning towards religion as part of what I’m now thinking of as my “daily maintenance” approach to loneliness. I have tried two congregations in town: one Anglican, one Catholic. Neither felt like the right fit.
The town where I live is small enough that, on weekends, the paper just lists all the services going on — sort of like a movie listing, but for faith. And I find myself going through the list, thinking, No, that’s too early, or, Does that place have parking?
I’m really, really interested in the mega-churches that operate in the States (there are no mega-churches in Newfoundland). I can’t see myself becoming a member of such an assembly, but I’ve read about how they actually provide a lot of social services (employment skills training, food banks, daycare), and this notion intrigues me.
More to follow, as I make my way to another service this weekend.
New resolution re strangers diagnosing me online
I just had a smart reader of this blog write in and say, “Ignore them! They’re all nuts!” And I think I have to agree. One person told me (again, an anonymous Internet poster) that I’d have my life-long loneliness conquered if I just spent more time reading the cartoon page of the newspaper. This was actually wacky enough to put a smile on my face.
So, while I will definitely and always read notes sent to me by the readers of the blog and the book, I will–officially–no longer read anonymous posts on the Internet.
Stigma — I’ve been “diagnosed”
I knew this would happen: someone online (not a reader of my book, or the blog), has diagnosed me as having Avoidant Personality Disorder. I dissect “AvPD” pretty neatly in the book. My sense is that the “Avoidant” label is being used precisely because we don’t talk about loneliness.
A personality disorder refers to something inherently wrong with the self. There is nothing at all wrong with loneliness: it is not a mark of a malfunctioning personality.
What ticks me off (ooh, I’m getting mad here!) is that I say “lonely,” and someone immediately says, “Oh, you’re not lonely, you’re avoidant.” Actually, the problem is loneliness. If there were less stigma attaching to the state, we might be able to start talking about it without having to slap labels like “AvPD” on it.
Loneliness and “daily maintenance”
One of the best things about having the book published is that I’m hearing back from people with their perspectives on the state. I was speaking with someone in Halifax, trying to explain that my loneliness doesn’t feel at all over to me. I was saying that it feels like something I’ll have to continue battling my whole life.
And his response to me was, “You need daily maintenance.” I think the phrase comes from Alcoholics Anonymous, but it really hit home. I think responding to loneliness really does require daily attention and “maintenance.”
I’m not sure what my “maintenance” regime will be, though I know I need one. For me, it must include exercise, and ideally meditation (though I have a hard time sticking to a meditation schedule). It should also probably include spirituality, though (as I’ve written in my posts on religion), I yet don’t have a church or congregation that feels like home to me.
Right now, I just wanted to share the phrase, and the idea, since I think it captures something important about responding to chronic loneliness.
“Anonymous” comments
Many thanks to the people who have written in response to some of my blog posts. I love reading what people have to say, and I’ve seen some really good ideas put forward.
One thing I have done, however, is pull people’s names off of the comments. This is because (a) loneliness is a stigmatized state, and (b) I’m not sure that people want their names published.
If you’re OK with having your name attached to your post, just indicate that in your message, and I’ll share your name or “handle” with the world!
“High functioning” lonely people
In the Macleans review of Lonely, Anne Kingston refers to me as a “high functioning” lonely person. The phrase is her own — I didn’t suggest it to her — but I think it does a great job of capturing the problem many lonely people face. Contrary to the stereotypes that get tossed around (of the lonely as unattractive, or insincere, or passive), lonely people are often so utterly competent and dishy that no one thinks there’s a problem with their emotional lives.
In my case, as the review points out, the fact that I was managing so well allowed me to completely hide my loneliness. And hiding the state was a problem, because it meant that no one asked me about it. And with no one asking, I was left with what felt like an unmentionable, insurmountable problem.
There’s much to be said for being a “high functioning” lonely person — it lets you escape stigma and censure, and it allows you to keep your private difficulties private. But I think functioning so dog-gone well can also make the loneliness much harder to bear….simply because no one will think to ask you about it.