I have been lonely,
a lot.
If you ask me when exactly I started feeling this way, I wouldn’t have an answer.
I remember feeling this way when I was eighteen, and away from family for the first time. When I was the only one in class, waiting for my teacher to arrive. When lunch breaks were in the corner of lush lawns. In libraries, surrounded by the smell of academia and intellect.
I also remember feeling this way at my firm’s annual party, amongst a thousand people.
On a cute little date night, when the rain brushed against our skin.
I remember feeling this way when I was alone.
But, I remember feeling this way even when I was surrounded by everyone I ever loved.
Loneliness has acquainted me, a little too often, like an obsessed, broken-up lover.
~Dealing with it~
I have tried multiple things (and if you have something similar to share, I'd love to hear from you).
I’ve written journals. Learned a new musical instrument. Started a new venture. Volunteered. Explored new cities all by myself. Exercised. Networked. Tried dating apps. Met some amazing people, simply because I was open to speaking to a complete stranger. Taken up more projects at work to distract myself. Cooked. I have also tried therapy.
But if there’s anything I’ve learnt about mental health, it is this - there is no escape from sitting down, and dealing with your problems. The thing with anything psychological is that it finds its way back. There is no vaccine for such plagues. It is like that deja vu situation that you think you have seen before, that you know you have felt before, until you feel it again - until it loops, across the strings of time and space.
In spite of everything that I ever did, the only thing that worked - slightly more than the rest - was reflecting upon why I was feeling the way I was. Why things and people and situations felt so out of control that life seemed to be engulfing me like a big white whale. And how, each of these experiences, have shaped who I am as an individual.
There is no antidote to loneliness - people have felt this way for years, and will continue to. And just how together we are in feeling in this way, is perhaps the greatest irony that loneliness sublets.
My word of understanding:
I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve wanted to leave everything behind.
How the walls seemed to be closing in on me;
how music started feeling like it was out to get me with a machete;
how every face seemed unfamiliar, even when I had known it for years.
Loneliness is terrifying.
It waits on your chair, blowing its cigar, until you choke on its smoke.
So if you ask me if I’ve learnt to deal with it,
My answer is no.
If I’ve learnt to live with it,
No.
If I’ve learnt of what it is,
No.
All I can say, with certainty, is that I can now talk about it.
With time,
I have learnt to accept it for what it is, and what it seeks to do to me.
There are a lot of feelings, situations, people, memories that I fail to speak about till date.
After all these years, loneliness is not one of them.
I have begun to look at it as something that has visited me before, and will continue to, until I find it in myself to not label it as loneliness anymore. I have held its fingers, and walked around with it - hurtfully, and with a very heavy heart.
But as far as my journey, and my relationship with it goes,
I know that I’ve progressed.
I count that as step one.
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