midnightlamp
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- Jan 7, 2008
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I may only be 18 years old, but I've read somewhere before that a person's age in years is irrelevant: The miles that the mind has traveled are all that matters. With that concept in mind, I can say without any reservations that I have suffered through unbearable and seemingly insuperable loneliness. I could continue on in a discussion and show some of my past autobiographical writings to give my words a bit more pull, but I don't think it's necessary. Everyone here knows the pangs of loneliness at their worst; it's hell on earth.
I just wanted to say that for each person who experiences loneliness, the solution is different. I've done a lot of writing based on fantasies or "what I'd like to happen," and that got me through some rough areas. However, it was all transitory. Indulging my misery in the written word was adequate respite for the time being, but loneliness always came back to haunt me.
What about friends? Same deal. I have a very good friend with whom I can converse about relevant things, although I am unable to completely open up. Regardless, I have talked to this person (or that person, or blah blah woof woof) on many an occasion where I felt I was sinking down, and after I had the discussion I felt much better and much more stable. But what about long-term? Is 12 hours long term? The next day I was a mess again; and if it wasn't that time that I was a mess, it was another.
Mood fluctuations. Not minding loneliness to being completely engulfed by it. Feeling divine inspiration and titillating ambition and wanting to live with the utmost vigor and valor to feeling abject, helpless, lovelorn, empty, defeated, and wanting to die with the grimmest and most ominous mindset imaginable. Go to sleep. Wake up. Repeat. We've all been there.
Yes, this is all good and well. But why does someone new have to try to tell everyone something they already know? I'm not sure. Just thought I'd try to establish some sort of coherent or otherwise solid foundation for human connectivity. It's awfully hard to connect with a brick wall, although I have heard of people being partial to its company for the sole purpose that it's the only thing in the world that is incapable of contradiction.
The reasons for my loneliness need not be mentioned, as its irrelevant to the point I've been working up to and I believe that it would only hinder it. My point can, however, be illustrated sufficiently -- to an extent, at least -- by the means of a particular anecdote.
In short, I was on the floor in the basement, and I hadn't talked to anyone in a while; hardly atypical, yet bothersome in spite of the supposed callousing of years' time. I was in the middle of exercising, an attempt to combat my loneliness and concomitant anxiety and depression that I had long been told to sustain in the upkeep, and I lost it. This feeling of utter helplessness and a fervent longing for death to befall me was nothing new in the sense of occurrence, yet it was new in the sense that it was another tally; I had reached a higher number for the rate of occurrences, and numbers are infinite -- so who was to say that this would not happen to me for the rest of my life? Upon lying there for successive amounts of time, I felt more and more helpless. I had nothing going for me, and I just wanted to die. I had always heard about the "ticking time bomb" metaphor as well as being at the end of one's rope, and I had thought about it a lot myself. However, I never knew what would happen when one proverbially exploded or slipped off of the rope. I didn't see it coming, but at least for myself, I found out.
I got pissed off. I got really pissed off. I was seething with anger and frustrated vexation to the point of apoplexy, yet it was different than any other kind of anger I had felt previously. I didn't feel out of control in the least; rather, I felt completely in control. After that long while of submission to negativity, I fought back. I got up, finished exercising, and proceeded to complete tasks that I had not the will to finish previously. I also ceased to succumb to loneliness's terrible and oppressive grip, simply allowing it to stroke my mind with dabs of inspiration, humanity, and compassion that I have always believed are the most positive and most overlooked aspects of "mental hangups."
Since that day, I have been feeling much better about everything. No, I do not have what I wanted prior to my awakening. In the physical or social sense, I am exactly where I have been for years. As a matter of fact, I'm in the exact same position that I have been in for years with the sole exception of a stronger and metamorphosed mindset. I still have bouts of overwhelming anxiety, yet the depression and loneliness have mitigated exponentially. How?
I looked inward for the solution. This does sound aversive to fulfillment -- abandoning long yearned for ideals of a fully satisfying intimate relationship, entailing intellectual, physical, and emotional reciprocation to the most elating degree, or any other such ideal -- and that is the hardest part of allowing it to work. Humans are affectionate beings, and we long for affection, plain and simple. A life does not have to be without these blessings, yet it also should not require them in order to achieve fulfillment: Just as partaking in an enjoyable activity may put loneliness on hold, relying on external circumstances for fulfillment is a transient solution. Would getting involved in an earnest, loving, and satisfying-on-all-ends relationship enrich one's life and forever better it "until death do us part"? Of course. The people we meet have a profound effect on our lives, and it would be foolish to think that getting deeply involved with a person is a bad idea: A level of involvement has no bearing on each person's individual stability; rather, it should have no bearing. Dependence is a dangerous thing.
When two people reciprocate on all levels, a part of each person is instilled in the other. It is in this sense that two people can be together long after separation, and it is in this sense that dependence on another person is unnecessary and false as dependence on another person is a misnomer for dependence on one's self, which is the necessary and true end to strive for.
There is no using people, or anything of the sort. Human connectivity is the most beautiful thing on this earth, and its full potential is when separation can be fulfilled and accepted. I have had people in my life who had a profound effect on me, and even though I do it subconsciously, I carry them around every day in my perspectives. Do not be saddened by separation, and do not be saddened by a lack of people. I am certainly not encouraging sequestration or reclusion or anything in that vein; I am simply stating that sometimes the option of finding the "right people" is not available, and even if it is, none of us has much control over those people entering our lives, and that one must have stability and happiness in solitude in order to arrive at true happiness. Nobody you know is going to be with you for the rest of your life, right up to the second that you die (I'm sure that this has happened in some cases, but by all means it is not a common occurrence or applicable to practical applications of discussion) -- on this earth, you are all that you have. As for why I have repeated that phrase, the answer is quite overt: Spirituality. However, I have been avoiding that term deliberately for the reason of fear. I do not want to dissuade anyone with such ideas, and I want to make it crystal clear that spirituality does not have to have anything to do with reaching the point that I said I have reached.
I've rambled senselessly for long enough, and I think it fit to end with a keen and succinct aphorism. And...
I'm afraid my wit is a little dull for that endeavor. I will end on some conclusive note, however, for whoever's benefit:
You must be aware that your immense suffering is no guarantee for resolution on this earth, and nothing is preventing your mind from collapsing in on itself and thus withdrawing you from the world and resigning you from jubilation. With this uncertainty in mind, continue the fight, and do not take that word lightly. Lifting the weight of loneliness, anxiety, depression, or whatever it is that ails you off of your shoulders on your own is both the most rewarding experience under such circumstances and, by leaps and bounds, the most permanent.
I sincerely wish all of you the best, and to those of you who have so kindly taken the time to read all of this, I extend a heartfelt thank-you for choosing some less grotesque or morbid alternative to suicide in order to mitigate your presumably immeasurable suffering before you reached the words upon which your eyes are lying now; I did my best to be entertaining, but I think somewhere after "only be 18" I became ensnared in yet another one of my horrifically boring rambling-traps.
P.S. Life, if anything, is highly vulnerable to sucker punches.
I just wanted to say that for each person who experiences loneliness, the solution is different. I've done a lot of writing based on fantasies or "what I'd like to happen," and that got me through some rough areas. However, it was all transitory. Indulging my misery in the written word was adequate respite for the time being, but loneliness always came back to haunt me.
What about friends? Same deal. I have a very good friend with whom I can converse about relevant things, although I am unable to completely open up. Regardless, I have talked to this person (or that person, or blah blah woof woof) on many an occasion where I felt I was sinking down, and after I had the discussion I felt much better and much more stable. But what about long-term? Is 12 hours long term? The next day I was a mess again; and if it wasn't that time that I was a mess, it was another.
Mood fluctuations. Not minding loneliness to being completely engulfed by it. Feeling divine inspiration and titillating ambition and wanting to live with the utmost vigor and valor to feeling abject, helpless, lovelorn, empty, defeated, and wanting to die with the grimmest and most ominous mindset imaginable. Go to sleep. Wake up. Repeat. We've all been there.
Yes, this is all good and well. But why does someone new have to try to tell everyone something they already know? I'm not sure. Just thought I'd try to establish some sort of coherent or otherwise solid foundation for human connectivity. It's awfully hard to connect with a brick wall, although I have heard of people being partial to its company for the sole purpose that it's the only thing in the world that is incapable of contradiction.
The reasons for my loneliness need not be mentioned, as its irrelevant to the point I've been working up to and I believe that it would only hinder it. My point can, however, be illustrated sufficiently -- to an extent, at least -- by the means of a particular anecdote.
In short, I was on the floor in the basement, and I hadn't talked to anyone in a while; hardly atypical, yet bothersome in spite of the supposed callousing of years' time. I was in the middle of exercising, an attempt to combat my loneliness and concomitant anxiety and depression that I had long been told to sustain in the upkeep, and I lost it. This feeling of utter helplessness and a fervent longing for death to befall me was nothing new in the sense of occurrence, yet it was new in the sense that it was another tally; I had reached a higher number for the rate of occurrences, and numbers are infinite -- so who was to say that this would not happen to me for the rest of my life? Upon lying there for successive amounts of time, I felt more and more helpless. I had nothing going for me, and I just wanted to die. I had always heard about the "ticking time bomb" metaphor as well as being at the end of one's rope, and I had thought about it a lot myself. However, I never knew what would happen when one proverbially exploded or slipped off of the rope. I didn't see it coming, but at least for myself, I found out.
I got pissed off. I got really pissed off. I was seething with anger and frustrated vexation to the point of apoplexy, yet it was different than any other kind of anger I had felt previously. I didn't feel out of control in the least; rather, I felt completely in control. After that long while of submission to negativity, I fought back. I got up, finished exercising, and proceeded to complete tasks that I had not the will to finish previously. I also ceased to succumb to loneliness's terrible and oppressive grip, simply allowing it to stroke my mind with dabs of inspiration, humanity, and compassion that I have always believed are the most positive and most overlooked aspects of "mental hangups."
Since that day, I have been feeling much better about everything. No, I do not have what I wanted prior to my awakening. In the physical or social sense, I am exactly where I have been for years. As a matter of fact, I'm in the exact same position that I have been in for years with the sole exception of a stronger and metamorphosed mindset. I still have bouts of overwhelming anxiety, yet the depression and loneliness have mitigated exponentially. How?
I looked inward for the solution. This does sound aversive to fulfillment -- abandoning long yearned for ideals of a fully satisfying intimate relationship, entailing intellectual, physical, and emotional reciprocation to the most elating degree, or any other such ideal -- and that is the hardest part of allowing it to work. Humans are affectionate beings, and we long for affection, plain and simple. A life does not have to be without these blessings, yet it also should not require them in order to achieve fulfillment: Just as partaking in an enjoyable activity may put loneliness on hold, relying on external circumstances for fulfillment is a transient solution. Would getting involved in an earnest, loving, and satisfying-on-all-ends relationship enrich one's life and forever better it "until death do us part"? Of course. The people we meet have a profound effect on our lives, and it would be foolish to think that getting deeply involved with a person is a bad idea: A level of involvement has no bearing on each person's individual stability; rather, it should have no bearing. Dependence is a dangerous thing.
When two people reciprocate on all levels, a part of each person is instilled in the other. It is in this sense that two people can be together long after separation, and it is in this sense that dependence on another person is unnecessary and false as dependence on another person is a misnomer for dependence on one's self, which is the necessary and true end to strive for.
There is no using people, or anything of the sort. Human connectivity is the most beautiful thing on this earth, and its full potential is when separation can be fulfilled and accepted. I have had people in my life who had a profound effect on me, and even though I do it subconsciously, I carry them around every day in my perspectives. Do not be saddened by separation, and do not be saddened by a lack of people. I am certainly not encouraging sequestration or reclusion or anything in that vein; I am simply stating that sometimes the option of finding the "right people" is not available, and even if it is, none of us has much control over those people entering our lives, and that one must have stability and happiness in solitude in order to arrive at true happiness. Nobody you know is going to be with you for the rest of your life, right up to the second that you die (I'm sure that this has happened in some cases, but by all means it is not a common occurrence or applicable to practical applications of discussion) -- on this earth, you are all that you have. As for why I have repeated that phrase, the answer is quite overt: Spirituality. However, I have been avoiding that term deliberately for the reason of fear. I do not want to dissuade anyone with such ideas, and I want to make it crystal clear that spirituality does not have to have anything to do with reaching the point that I said I have reached.
I've rambled senselessly for long enough, and I think it fit to end with a keen and succinct aphorism. And...
I'm afraid my wit is a little dull for that endeavor. I will end on some conclusive note, however, for whoever's benefit:
You must be aware that your immense suffering is no guarantee for resolution on this earth, and nothing is preventing your mind from collapsing in on itself and thus withdrawing you from the world and resigning you from jubilation. With this uncertainty in mind, continue the fight, and do not take that word lightly. Lifting the weight of loneliness, anxiety, depression, or whatever it is that ails you off of your shoulders on your own is both the most rewarding experience under such circumstances and, by leaps and bounds, the most permanent.
I sincerely wish all of you the best, and to those of you who have so kindly taken the time to read all of this, I extend a heartfelt thank-you for choosing some less grotesque or morbid alternative to suicide in order to mitigate your presumably immeasurable suffering before you reached the words upon which your eyes are lying now; I did my best to be entertaining, but I think somewhere after "only be 18" I became ensnared in yet another one of my horrifically boring rambling-traps.
P.S. Life, if anything, is highly vulnerable to sucker punches.
