Loneliness

As I grow older, there’s this pervasive sense of loneliness that grows within me. It was a small blot as a child, barely noticeable but as I enter adulthood, it’s been growing and growing and growing. And I see no way of stopping it.

I crave real relationships, deeper relationships. I crave a shoulder to cry on, somebody to talk to when the going gets tough and someone to simply listen to me rather than give me advice. I have friends, yes. But most of them, I realise now, are friends only in name. We talk of only superficial things. Things that don’t matter in the long run, things that I can disregard after a single conversation. And the true friends that I do (or did) have seem to no longer have the space for me in their lives. Work, assignments or newer, more interesting acquaintances take up their time. And I feel left behind. I feel left alone.

It’s scary to feel like my needs aren’t being met. That when I’m only seeking a listening ear, I receive advice or I receive tough love. Sometimes, I just want to throw a pity party for myself. Is that too much to ask? I want my friend to just sit beside me, hold my hand and allow me to feel like a shitty human being for a few moments. I want to feel like I deserve empathy of that kind. Empathy that just lets me be in my state of mind and allows me to process it for a few minutes or hours. Empathy that lets me be, lets me come to terms with things before I’m hammered by solutions and “oh, here’s what you can try”.

I feel so alone because I don’t feel like I have friends who can do that for me. I love the people I hold close to my heart, but sometimes I want them to merely be present. I want them to not tell me to meditate or change my perspective or work harder. I want them to just be my punching bag for a few minutes (but, I don’t know, even saying that out loud to myself makes me feel like I am a terrible person).

A few days ago, I was really upset about something. I’d just been to the doctor’s and had received a potential diagnosis that was terrifying to me. It’s not life threatening, it’s treatable and we’re not even sure that I have it; but I was absolutely petrified when I even considered that possibility. And all I wanted to do was talk to a friend about it, for them to tell me that it will be okay, that they’re here for me and to listen to me cry, just until I’d let it all out. And I did call a friend, someone I used to be incredibly close to but now feel distant from. As if we’ve been separated by a wedge. She hasn’t made an effort in months and so, I gave up too. I felt that I had more self-worth than to constantly feel like I was bothering someone who didn’t return my efforts. But I needed her that night, so I called her. I called her sobbing and clutching my chest in fear. It was clear she was out with friends and usually, I would take a step back and immediately put the phone down. But I couldn’t this time, I was too in my head and needed someone. As I poured out my fears to her, practically wailing, all she said to me was “I understand. It’s okay. I understand.” Over and over and over. And she said it in her, “oh fuck I don’t know how to deal with this” voice. I felt so disconnected from her in that moment. It crushed me. She said she’d call me back the next day because she was with people.

The call came the next day, but I was asleep when it did. I couldn’t bring myself to call her back because it felt like there was no point to it. I didn’t want to feel the way I had the previous night while speaking with her or all those weeks when there was no effort on her part. And I know that I’m to blame here too. But I don’t like the way I feel when I’m constantly texting or calling only to be replied to after days or never being called back. I can’t do it anymore.

I just feel lonely. I don’t feel like my heart is being held anymore. I did some years ago. But it’s faded since then and most of the friendships I have now are just shadows of what they truly could be if I (and they) put in efforts.

I feel like such a terrible bitch typing these things out because I do have friends, I really do. I just no longer feel fulfilled by them. I don’t want to be insincere or disingenuous about this. I feel like I am and I feel so terribly about it. Am I the one at fault here? I don’t know. I feel like I don’t give them credit for trying either because I have unrealistic expectations of them. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.