Photo from http://www.futurity.org/society-culture/loneliness-can-be-infectious/ |
Two weeks ago I sat in my living room with twenty-odd other
people and my dog, and we were all connected – linked by a golden evening glow,
beautiful music and good will. I believe
that somehow, we are still linked together, but what I feel today and felt
yesterday, and the day before that, is my estrangement from the people around
me. I bask in a glow of oneness for an
evening, and feel disconnected for days after that. This may be the descent of the metaphorical balloon I live in, and I've floated back down to earth after being up in the clouds for a while. But I am encountering disconnectedness in others too, so in this post I'm going to explore this unpleasant sensation with you.
Am I some odd neurotic freak in a world everyone else finds
harmonious? Or are many of us secretly,
slowly bleeding inside as we smile our greetings and exchange our small-talk
pleasantries? Is my isolation something
only expats feel, a byproduct of living in a foreign land? This is something I am aware of every
day. I am not German, and have never
felt German. But I feel less and less American, too, the more
time I spend away from the country of my birth.
The few Americans I see here don’t appear lonely, but then we don’t
normally talk about these sorts of feelings. When they don't mention these feelings is it because they don't feel it? Or is this a subject people would rather run away from - something like the plague? Do only freaks feel lonely? The article the above photo comes from states that loneliness is a condition we should be concerned about. It says that ..."societies seem to develop a natural tendency to shed these lonely people," and that loneliness is catching, like the flu (or the plague), so we'd better try and cure it before it catches us.
In my case, I often choose to be alone because I prefer my own company to the group that's currently on offer. But then I sometimes feel like a freak, as if there's something wrong with me for preferring to be alone. I ask myself why this is, going through a round of questions.
Is it because I am a confessing Christian in a culture of agnostics? Am I weird because I claim to have a life
with Jesus? Does this make me someone
others would rather avoid? But I feel it
around Christians too. They stand there
in the same church services I go to, lifting up their hands in worship. What do they feel? I often feel nothing.
Is it because I'm a pretty brainy person? Or maybe I'm not intellegent enough for the people around me and they're overwhelming me. Or because I maybe have bad breath? That'd keep me away from others. Or maybe I stink! Maybe I need to buy a different brand of deoderant. Or maybe it's because I'm to the left of the political scale in an ever-more conservative world. Or maybe I'm too conservative. You get it. There are lots of reasons to feel alone.
The glow
of the house concert I played in started to fade a few days after our evening
together. Easter, which was wonderful, came and went, and then
I went over to see my friend Linda (as usual, I’ve changed the names of the
people I’m writing about). I had invited
her to come for dinner over Easter, but she said she needed to be alone – she had
too much to work through after having been at a conference with some “friends”. Linda was once close to Melanie, one of the
women at the conference, but something happened between them years ago, and now
Melanie has practically nothing to do with Linda. Linda later latched onto Sybille, who is also
one of my friends. But Linda’s neediness
was too much for Sybille that Easter weekend, and she somehow rebuffed
Linda. Sybille and Linda are in a tangle
of female relationships that I, an outsider, would characterize as a mess. I would rather be on the outside of a clique,
all by myself, living on my little island with Peter and Toffee, our dog, than
enmeshed in this mess.
My evening with Linda was also spent with Sybille. Linda had invited both of us before the
conference, and we had all anticipated a friendly evening of female
companionship, a nice meal and a film.
The evening reminded me, though, that my choice not to get too close to
either of these women is also a lonely way to live. It was Sybille’s birthday just after Easter,
and Sybille invited Melanie to go to the movies with her, but not Linda. It goes almost without saying that I wasn’t
invited – I have chosen to be on the outside of this circle. So far on the outside was I that I completely
forgot that Sybille had turned one year older.
This is a sort of faux pas in
the German culture, where birthdays are even holier than Sundays – even for the
churchgoers! The evening was a
mess. Linda told me she had been
uninvited to Sybille’s party. I
commented that I had never been invited in the first place, but that was okay with
me. What wasn’t good was to forget
Sybille’s birthday. Sybille said that
was okay, but she sat there, not saying or explaining anything, except to
comment that there is a price to be paid when one chooses not to get embroiled
in relationship tangles. I stewed in
that comment as we watched the movie I had brought along – “Larry Crowne”. We all sat together on the couch watching a
dumb movie. If an outsider had walked in
on us, we may have appeared to be close and having a wonderful time, but we
weren’t. We were all isolated from each
other. Not even the movie was able to
bring us closer.
Fortunately, I was able to speak to both Linda and Sybille
separately after that unhappy evening. We
all know that Linda has a rejection complex – Linda too, and she talks openly
about it. She even goes to therapy to
hopefully overcome it. Still, when in a
group, even when no one is excluding her, she can manage to feel rejected. And at that conference, Linda felt
ignored. She reacted by trying to cling
all the more tightly to Sybille, who couldn’t take it anymore, so she told
Linda, more or less, to get lost. But
Sybille says she and Linda will continue to be friends. Linda told me she wishes Sybille would have
told her exactly what it was about Linda’s behavior that was so annoying. I feel confident that they will work it out
and draw close together again.
And me? I’m still on
the outside of the circle, at least of that circle. I hate cliques. I hate exclusive behavior. But I want to belong, too. But to what?
To whom? Only to the things or
people that make me feel more alive. I'm also choosy, exclusive in my own way.
Like Linda, I also have an issue with feeling left out. Do most of us? I choose to leave myself out of exclusive
cliques, instead spending time with this individual one day and someone else
another day. And I spend a lot of time
alone. I am a writer, after all, and
writers need time alone. I enjoy my own
company a lot, at least during the times I don’t feel lonely.
How many of us writers feel alone? And lonely in that alone-ness? Or do other writers and people feel their
connectedness, while I cultivate my own little island in a German world, reading,
writing and speaking English most of the day, feeling my separateness?
I think I’ll make a phone call or two – and then I’ll feel
connected again. I’ll call a friend I
speak English to, and then a German, connecting those parts of my brain. And I will remind myself that I am not alone,
no matter how I feel, just as I am 100% American, no matter what I feel. What do you do when you feel alone? Or am I alone in this?
4 comments:
Hi Noreen! You brought up some good, soul searching questions here. I can be in a crowded room with family and friends then suddenly feel this terrible sense of loneliness creeping in, and I have no idea why that happens. I have not had a "special" best gal pal in many years, and sometimes I think that adds to the sense of loneliness. I have tons of friends, some that I guess you would consider "close", but no one that I feel I can be 100% honest and open with at all times. I think in your situation you haven't found the right gal pal there that you have that 100% connection with, which is why you probably still feel alone even when you're with your girlfriends. And yes, I think that we writers are also in our own little worlds sometimes and often feel disconnected because we feel that others cannot understand us or relate to what we're feeling. I recently joined Facebook and oddly enough enjoy the connections I have made there. I don't have to go out on the town with these people but I can talk about all sorts of stuff, reminisce and laugh over silly comments. It just feels right and comfortable to me. And now blogging-I've met some wonderful people here from all over the world who think similarly, and are becoming like a family to me.
Hope some of this helped. I do enjoy reading your blog!
Thanks! That was a good connect!
Perhaps feeling left out is a universal human experience. Perhaps it is the result of one of those lying voices in our heads that need constant reordering to keep the negativity from taking over our sense of well-being. I have chosen to be more alone than most, no spouse or significant other, and only a few friends, and most of the time it doesn't bother me. I have noticed that when it does bother me, it bothers me in ways that I can address, by looking for the mind-reading, assumption-laden lies that make me depressed and rob me of the good in life. I need to always return to my cognitive therapy to talk back to the lies and assumptions and find a more positive probability for other people's behaviors and remember always that other people are seldom as concerned with worrying about other people because they are too wrapped up in their own self-made miseries to be focused on others. The pendulum swing can only stay high on one side before turning to the other. Have patience- the ride to the next high will be just as interesting.
Thank you, Blue Flag. That is really true, what you say, and something I also know to be true, but keep forgetting. You said that so well.
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