Too Much Alone

A mark of shame. That’s the first definition that Merriam-Webster Dictionary assigns to the word stigma. According to the American Psychological Association, a stigma is “a negative social attitude attached to a characteristic of an individual that may be regarded as a mental, physical, or social deficiency.” We’re each aware of personal qualities or ways of being that may lead to being stigmatized. We might wish, or even believe, that such stigmas are a thing of the past but while things may not be as bad as they once were, we still suffer for our perceived shortcomings. And this can affect our ability to lead full and healthy lives.

I’ve worked with a few counselors through the years, usually seeking tools to better navigate interpersonal relationships and the world in general. As recently as two years ago, a psychologist helped me navigate the transitions I was experiencing as I prepared to leave employment to focus on healing. The low-level chronic depression (dysthymia) I live with had seldom troubled me since the divorce. Until this pandemic. February 2021 was terrible – but it was terrible for everyone so I didn’t think about depression. This spring though, for no good reason, I struggled again. I’m doing better now but have begun the process that’ll allow me to check in with someone.

At one time or another, we all benefit from having someone listen to, and assure, us that we’re okay and will make it through this hard place. For many folks, friends or family fill this niche. Others of us prefer, or need, to work with a professional. (Again, no shame, no stigma!)

I recently started paying attention to the silence that would greet my words when I mentioned loneliness. I’d never thought about it before, but then I’ve seldom talked or written about loneliness (beyond journaling). It was my secret shame. I’m talking now. People of all ages and in all situations are lonely. It’s endemic.

In the last year, I’ve read lots of articles about loneliness. I’ve learned that it ages us and decreases our longevity. It weakens our immune response. It even makes us less likely to engage with others when we have a chance to connect. In thinking of widowed acquaintances who sink into isolation as well as my own avoidance of phone calls to family during lonelier weekends, I can affirm this.

In response to a perceived epidemic of loneliness, Britain initiated Loneliness Awareness Week. Additionally, that government has, for the last three years, put together a report, Tackling Loneliness, part of its goal being to reduce the stigma around loneliness and to make it easier for people to seek help.

While loneliness can adversely affect our physical and mental health, it’s not an illness in and of itself. Rather, it’s a state of mind describing the difference between the human contact we desire and the contact we actually experience. Think of it as a math equation.

Desired Connection – Actual Connection = Potential Loneliness

With that definition, we could dismiss our loneliness as simply wanting what we don’t have. And to an extent, it is. Yet humans are social creatures. Nearly everyone needs human contact. A theologian might say that we are made for community. (Yes, I’ve said this.) 

Loneliness was widespread even before the Covid-19 pandemic. Those who have been most cautious about their – or others’ – safety these last two years are probably the most isolated but we’ve all faced the limits of our comfort in solitude.

I never realized there’s a stigma around loneliness, but once I started looking I found the words linked everywhere. (I guess I’m just late to the party.) This is the power of stigma. It keeps us believing that our challenge, whatever it is, is a shameful thing – something to be hidden – and that we’re the only ones for whom it’s a problem.

Knowing this, I’m going to keep talking about it and I encourage you to do the same. While we may not know what to say to that lonely person, just by validating someone's perception we can help. We don’t need to problem-solve (resist, resist). We can simply listen. Helping another person to feel seen and heard is one of the best signs of caring!

If you enjoyed reading, please consider sharing this post.