On Overcoming Loneliness

Memoirs and reflections of a recent past

This is the most personal essay I have written as of yet. In doubt whether I should keep it as a diary entry or publish it as an essay, I decided to do the latter. It was a quite cathartic experience for me writing this, as it captures one of the most central themes of my life thus far: loneliness. I hope the essay can be of any worth to anyone who might have dealt or deals with similar issues.

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Of all the fears I have ever had, not one came as close as the fear of loneliness. Navigating isolation has been one of the biggest challenges I have went through, a mix of switching classes, a few jerks and some poor decisions led me to, in my own school at least, be a loner.

Being alone, having no group or tribe that you are a part of, it forces you to think for yourself, not because you want to be independent, but because you don’t have anyone or anything to base your thoughts on, aside from yourself. In the beginning this leads to uncertainty, you start following whatever seems most acceptable, often inspired by what the fictional ‘normal person’ would think or do. You are on your own, but you still try to follow some kind of herd, try to play by the rules of a system, even though you aren’t even a part of one.

It’s always a difficult dilemma when you have to weigh your own morals against acceptance of a group, ‘should I say something or should I just go along with it’, ‘is this normal’? Desperately trying to find some frame of reference, trying to find out what’s normal and what’s not, still playing by imaginary rules of imaginary people. This is what I did for quite a while of my, still ongoing, teenage years; obsessively parting my hair in certain ways, wearing certain clothes, even hyper-consciously changing the ways I move my hands all in a kind of quiet hope to be accepted or maybe one time get a party invite.

Yet, I have never conformed, every time I could gain status or a membership of a group in exchange for a hit to my conscience, I declined the offer, time and time again. Not because I don’t want to have a friend group, of course, but because I can’t, if I have to act in ways which are completely against my nature in exchange for friendship I just can’t go along with it, not only because I don’t want to, but because I simply can’t.

A few years ago, when I switched schools, I got in a class with very loud guys, guys who insulted each other constantly for fun, with a very clear hierarchy, the type of persons you can’t really have a conversation with. I just didn’t fit in with them, they are not demons, I acknowledge that, but I just couldn’t change myself enough in order to really be a part of that group.

With that mutual rejection went along lots of shame, if they are what’s normal, well then that means that I am not, was what was echoing through my head and bleeding through in my behaviour. Being left with just myself, I hid myself in all kinds of distractions, afraid to pursue my true passions, thinking it would just differentiate me even more from the groups that I already wasn’t a part of.

At school, when I was around 8, I remember liking history, philosophy and religion, they always ignited a little spark in me, spiking my enthusiasm. Despising school because I thought it wasn’t normal if I didn’t, I repressed those interests more and more during that school year after I switched schools. At the end of that year, when the summer break started, I found myself swallowed up by alienation and an all devouring feeling of being out of place. I was lost.

During that summer, I made the decision, to let go and accept myself. It sounds so simple ‘to accept yourself’, but to let down all the walls you keep up for yourself, to trust your own judgement and morals is so powerful and genuine. To see yourself for who you are, the good and the bad and radically embrace yourself nevertheless. From that moment on I was my moral compass, I decided what I deemed good and bad, valid and invalid, what I liked and what I disliked. I could finally enjoy myself, the countless social calculations and ruminations stopped and I started to pursue what I loved.

As Camus so beautifully said: ‘In the midst of winter I found, there was, within myself, an invincible summer’. The invincible summer where I picked up Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, started to dress the way I like to dress, started to indulge myself in all the things I loved without any shame. I could enjoy myself with a book and a cup of tea, that was enough. No big story, no award, just a sense of fulfilment whilst reading a book and looking at the leaves through the window. A few months later, I wrote my first essay on Substack, The Test of Mortality. And gradually, I found people who I didn’t have to pretend with, people with whom I actually felt happy, I found friends.