I feel lucky. I love being a writer and part of why I do is because it allows me to work alone, be alone. It’s not exactly that I don’t like being around other people (I do, kind of). But when I worked in corporate America, I couldn’t get away from people, couldn’t find time for myself. Maybe because I’m an introvert I love spending time alone. I am actually happiest alone and in my head.
But the flip side? Alone can lead to lonely.
It used to be that I’d get my “human fix” by having coffee with a friend once a month. That was when my kids were home and there was the predictability and clamor of the day. Once the kids were at school, I’d come home and walk the dog, then I’d write. I had several business clients who kept me busy. At the other end of the day, the kids would come home and life was a whirl.
Things changed. I live in an empty nest now—my two kids successfully (and happily) launched. There have been other life changes as well. More stressors. My husband was unemployed for a while—which was nice because he was home so I had company, but worrisome in many other ways. When he started working again he was gone all the time. Then one of my closest friendships ended abruptly. I stopped freelance writing to focus on fiction.
Then our dog died. And my world kind of bottomed out. My daily companion, my beloved soul-dog was gone.
And for the first time, I really felt like the lonely writer.
By the time I realized I was in trouble, I would often find myself at tear’s edge. I started writing in a local coffee shop many mornings, found solace (if not conversation) in “the regulars.” But it wasn’t enough. I started craving human conversation. I’m usually a very independent, self-sufficient, bounce-back kind of person, but I didn’t feel very resilient anymore.
Signs you might be lonely
In case you wonder what loneliness looks like, this is what it looked like for me.
You know that overly-chatty mailman you usually run into your house to get away from? You invite him into your mudroom when he delivers a certified letter—then you chat for five minutes. You’re sorry to see him go. When you hire a carpenter to do some work around your house, he tells you, “We need to limit our conversations to two minutes a day.” (No I didn’t make this up.) You have gone through your friend list—twice—and wonder why it’s taken half a day (okay ten minutes) for people to respond to coffee invitations. You look forward to grand re-openings of the grocery store, of the library, of the new bridge to town. You spend more and more time on social networking (which of course raises its own set of issues). Your characters become your best friends, and you talk to other people about them as though they are real. You stop random people on the beach to tell them how much their dog reminds you of yours that died the month before (except they have a Shizh Tzu and you had a black Lab)…
[pullquote]By the time I realized I was in trouble, I would often find myself at tear’s edge. I started writing in a local coffee shop many mornings, found solace (if not conversation) in “the regulars.” But it wasn’t enough. I started craving human conversation. I’m usually a very independent, self-sufficient, bounce-back kind of person, but I didn’t feel very resilient anymore.[/pullquote]But the crowning glory came with this. You realize you have regular hours at the usual coffee shop when someone approaches you one morning and introduces himself. “Hi I’m Bob. I like to talk to the other regulars every morning…” I became a regular. The weird woman in the corner who everyone knows is a writer (the barista even knew about the story I was writing), with my stuff spread all over the table for several hours, the one pressed into conversations with Bob and the other regulars.
What can we do?
This is not something new. All writers go though it to some degree at some time or another. It’s a job requirement to be solitary after all. Porter Anderson wrote an interesting piece on Writer Unboxed last year in “Are You Lonesome Tonight? The Dreaded Solitude of Writing.” It affects us in different ways. Everyone’s threshold is different. Maybe you need human companionship once a month, maybe you have six kids at home and are never lonely and escape to the bathroom whenever you can. Maybe you like to be alone all the time; maybe it’s okay with you to be the coffee shop regular.
But in all seriousness, loneliness can be a real problem, and I started to wonder—was I just lonely or was I depressed? I was especially worried with the long, dark Maine winter coming on. I knew I’d be even more isolated.
I made an appointment with a therapist (no, this was not just another excuse to talk to someone because I was lonely). She confirmed my belief. Although I wasn’t depressed, I was going through serious life changes. She could help. She does help.
Here are some ideas I’ve come up with…
- Find a new interest, join a new organization
- Join or start a writing group
- Take some classes
- Reach out to friends often (but you should give them more than ten minutes to answer), don’t isolate yourself, don’t wait until you feel desperate
- Go to different coffee shops, meet new people
- Go on outings, walk in new places, join a new gym
- Leave your house at least once a day
It still feels strange to have to seek out other things. When I have free, unstructured time (which is much more these days), I always think of writing first. My story is always in the back of my mind. If I could, I think I’d like to write twenty-four hours a day (yes I like it that much). I love writing and being a writer.
But now I also recognize that I need to do other things. Writing can’t consume my every available moment like it used to. Writing requires solitude, but what started out as barely being able to carve out enough alone time from the hubbub of life became an endless expanse of time. And, although I love being alone, I’ve also found that I don’t like too much aloneness. My goal is to find balance. To embrace my aloneness without being lonely. To find other new and exciting things to pursue.
It’s not easy, and I’m still a work in progress, but I’m figuring it out.
Have you ever felt like the lonely writer? Do you have any suggestions or ideas of how to combat it?
About Julia Munroe Martin
Julia Munroe Martin (@jmunroemartin) is a writer and blogger who lives in an old house in southern coastal Maine. Julia's other passion is photography, and if she's not writing at the dining room table or a local coffeeshop, you'll likely find her on the beach or dock taking photos. Julia writes The Empty Nest Can Be Murder mystery series as J. M. Maison.
You mentioned many of the short term solutions to combat the feeling of loneliness.
“To embrace my aloneness without being lonely” This is the first step for the long term solution.
Embracing. Whenever we are consumed by people, and then, transition to solitude, loneliness will come for you. It’s normal. The question is, how long will it take for you to embrace the FEELING? Loneliness gets lonely too. You’re just not used to her presence. Come on, don’t be afraid, it’s okay.
Hug her!
Caress her!
Accept her!
I said, it’s okay! Do it! Do it, now!
Learn your limit. Go be with people before you reach that limit.
Make it a cycle:
Solitude.
People.
Solitude.
People.
Don’t react to loneliness by doing a 180 degree turn from solitude, especially if you know your life has changed in such a way that solitude will be your new friend, and don’t just use people to combat discomfort. Over time, it will show in your behavior towards those people. Create new, genuine relationships, and nurture them, but don’t overdo it. Remember- your life has changed and solitude is now a big part of it.
Parents (especially single parents) of adolescent, preteen, and teenagers, start preparing yourself now. Don’t let the transition hit you like a ton of bricks. It will rock-your-world. If you are prepared, it will only pebble-your-world.
Haha, ahum, so……….how do we transfer your feelings of loneliness to your protagonist or main characters? Find, em-er-ah, 23 places in your manuscript and……………………………lol
Thank you for your great advice and suggestions, Brian, I really appreciate them. I am especially working on this: “Embracing. Whenever we are consumed by people, and then, transition to solitude, loneliness will come for you. It’s normal.” How do I get to this point in life without actually knowing and embracing this? I am learning. Transferring to my characters? Now that I’m better at! Thank you again, Brian!
No.
Thank you Julia.
Your post speaks to my life.
You will know you’re there when you can feel the loneliness and still function with decency.
For me, the feeling of loneliness is always present, but instead of it being a life size poster its more like a wallet size photo, and I’m totally fine with that.
I’m so glad I came to this post today. I often read Writer Unboxed, but have missed in the last couple of weeks for one reason or another. I needed to read this post and your reply, Brian. I am alone, not by choice, and have really been struggling with solitude. Like Julia, I liked my alone time before and even adjusted well to the empty nest, but I always had my husband when I needed that human contact. Since he died, I have really been adrift.
I’m a certified chaplain and have facilitated grief support groups, but I never knew how hard it was from the inside out. Also never knew how long the worst part of it would last. I never thought of embracing loneliness. I will have to try your suggestions.
One of my suggestions is exercise. Often I don’t want to do it, but I walk almost every morning. It does lift my mood.
I’m so glad you came today, too, Maryann. I’m sorry for your loss and that you’re adrift, and I hear how difficult it is. I hope some of these ideas in the comments resonate with you. Like you, I use exercise as a mood lifter. I had been walking and exercising at home, and one of the first things my therapist suggested was joining a gym. I’ve been going for about three weeks and it’s really helped to be near other people during that hour or so. Please take care and keep in touch if you’d like — I’d love to see you on my blog.
Thank you Maryann.
I needed to read your reply as well.
Julia,
I, too, love my solitude, and can easily slip into recluse-mode. But your post resonated with me especially because I’ve experienced this over the last months. The last three years have been a whirlwind of aging parent-new grandchildren activity, which is now calming down. Space has opened up. I actually found myself walking around my house feeling weird until I got it. I’d let so much go to deal with all that and still have time to write. I’m realizing, and your words today validate this, that I need to re-connect with other people, face to face. Actually socialize. Be in the electro-magnetic field of another sentient being. My dog is a good companion, but sometimes you just need a good chin wag. A laugh or two is such great medicine. I also recommend dancing, even at home to Pandora music.
“Feeling weird” describes the feeling to a “T,” Susan. Almost like I need to grow a new skin or something. Reconnecting to people face to face, socializing, really helps a lot. I love dancing, too, and will give it a try at home. Hope you find someone for a good chin wag! (Love that). Take care!
So … do I know you? You must be talking about me. So refreshing to see that I’m not the only one, that I’m not that unique. But you know what? Reading your post validated that I shouldn’t call my friend and cancel our lunch this coming Tuesday. She is the only one left who keeps calling. (Well…not as much as she used to)
I live in a large apartment building that houses 600 units. Imagine? A city in itself. Poor elevator riders…once I latch on to them, they walk out wabbling and dizzy. I do belong to two workshop groups, and I should go out to my local coffee shop more often. And I am happy I read you this morning. Yay!!!
It really has been refreshing to see I’m not the only one, too. Definitely DO NOT call your friend and cancel. Clearly I can’t tell you what to do, but I’ve done that before and have regretted it. Next time call her — maybe she’s feeling the same way? I am envious of your fellow-elevator riders, they sound like great people to chat with. Take care, Henya, and so glad I resonated with you this morning.
What a heartfelt piece, Julia. Yes, writing is a solo activity. I’m glad you’re in search of a balance that fits you well, and hope you know you have many friends who are right along beside you with love and support. xoxo
Thank you so much, Jennifer! You’re such a wonderful friend, and you’ve delivered a good reminder — that sometimes it’s easy to forget just how many friends I do have. I so appreciate your love and support. xox
Thank you, Julia, for this meditation on solitude and loneliness. And thank you, Brian, for the reminder to embrace solitude/loneliness . . . when it’s right.
I am a writer who loves social interaction. My work feeds off interaction with other people while too much solitude makes me go silent. My ideas dry up in an empty house! But of course, writing requires solitude. I struggle to embrace solitude long enough to change the socially-inspired ideas into fiction, but when I do, I am rewarded every time. I’ve come to realize and live with the fact that my writing depends on this tension between being with people and being alone.
Your essay reminds me to love the part of myself that wants to be alone.
This is so interesting, Kate. I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be an extrovert and need to spend those long hours alone to write. I should embrace more of the tension you describe. For me it’s never been there because I never had that draw to seek out the social side. I’m glad my essay reminds you to love the part of you that wants to be alone, because your comment reminds me to love the part of me that wants to socialize! Thank you so much!
Julia–
Anyone reading your post today–maybe I should qualify this by saying anyone who’s a writer–will immediately know that you are doing with yourself what you were meant to. Which is to write.
So, thank you.
What you’re taking up here–the loneliness that develops from self-imposed isolation–is a “price of admission” to the writing ranks. A true fondness for one’s own company is pretty much a prerequisite.
But the distractions of a public place like your coffee shop make that option impossible for me. I wish this weren’t so, but it is. I need to be physically alone, not just communing with my laptop as strangers (or “regulars”) come and go, the espresso machine hissing out another demitasse.
I’m sure the sudden awareness of being alone, of being cut off isn’t unique to me, or to writers. But I’m pretty sure it explains why so many writers drink. Alcohol can provide a quick fix, a kind of shortcut to sociability.
Do I have any suggestions for how to combat the problem? I think you’ve mentioned the most important ones. And I know all too well the dropsy sense of loss and isolation that comes from reaching down to stroke a dog–in my case a border collie–who is no more.
In my new novel, Deep North, a scene involves two women fishing. One is a housewife. She’s not a writer, but is experiencing what you speak of. She puts it this way: “What I’m saying is, a life like mine makes you lose track of what’s coming next. when it shows up, you’re standing in the kitchen feeling jealous. Your kids, your husband. They’re all moving away. Not out, just away from you. You’re standing at your nice new garden window in the kitchen, waving to them as the tide goes out.”
I think this is related to your topic: a sense not just of being alone, but of having been left.
Thanks again for another great post.
Barry, you truly made my day. What a kind and thoughtful comment (and compliment). And I love this: “What you’re taking up here–the loneliness that develops from self-imposed isolation–is a “price of admission” to the writing ranks. A true fondness for one’s own company is pretty much a prerequisite.” What a wonderful way to look at it. It truly helps me to turn it in that slightly different direction and examine it in the new light of your comment. Your understanding about the loss of my dog is so comforting. And I so appreciate the sharing of your novel. Thank you again for your comment and kind words.
Julia,
I love my solitude and living in my own world, but after UnCon I realized I miss going out for coffee with my writer and artist friends. What you described–the over-extended conversations with people about dogs, the weather, or anything trivial–means I need more than just my own company.
The problem here in the almost great white north is that we have no coffee shops nearby; library hours are limited, and everyone who lives here, who is well-read and educated is over the age of 70. Nothing wrong with that, but we’re talking about a different generation.
For now, I make do. I’m hoping it’s a temporary situation. Or maybe with some luck, one of the dogs will start talking back.
You have challenging conditions, no question, Rebeca. It’s a good thing there is the online world, right? You can keep in touch with all your UnCon friends (and me!). Here’s hoping your dogs will talk back and a new friend will move in who’s less than 70 and a reader. Do you skype or gchat with writer friends? I do that as well and it’s really enjoyable! Take care, Rebeca.
I’ve been a freelance writer for almost three years, now working on the 2nd draft of a manuscript, and this post resonates pretty strongly with me. I’m not married, so if I’m deep into a project it can be days before I hold a significant convo with another human being. And yes, it can be lonely, isolating and depressing.
I’m an introvert by nature and like to be able to detach myself from the world as I please. However, I cannot stress enough the importance of reaching out, nurturing friendships or just making efforts at being around other people. I joined a fiction writers’ group in the spring that has been an enormous boon, as I’ve met a half dozen people in very similar circumstances to myself. We read excerpts from our various work and essentially act as a writer support group. It’s been wonderful and I’d suggest visiting your local indie bookstore to see if you could find something similar.
Thank you for your understanding, Doug. I’ve really been trying to find a writing group — and this winter I’ll be making even more effort to find one — such a good idea. Thanks again for your comment and your kind words.
So well stated, Julia. You give voice to a topic and reality that is a part of living the writing life. While the way we pass through moments or seasons of loneliness may be unique to each of us, finding a balance between social and solitude is paramount for a healthy spirit, mind, and body. Thanks so much for your honesty and openness in sharing your experience with us.
Thanks for your kind words, Micky. I love this: “While the way we pass through moments or seasons of loneliness may be unique to each of us, finding a balance between social and solitude is paramount for a healthy spirit, mind, and body.” So well said. Thank you for reading and for your kind words.
Julia, thank you for sharing your journey with loneliness and writing.
I’ve also been weaving my way through the solitude and people cycle (thank you for that comment, Brian). Sometimes I take the initiative, as in moving from a rural village to a metro area. And other times it happens to me; my daughter boomeranged back home after graduating university and my parents health issues have become more complicated.
I appreciate loneliness but there are times when the dreads or, if you’re religious, the demons tackle me. I have learned not to hit the delete button during these times. Sometimes I just wait until the next morning or I may change my activity. It doesn’t occur frequently but I’ve lived through these times enough to know that the dreads are a component of my loneliness.
Thank you for this encouraging post.
I’m so glad you were encouraged, Lisa. It’s often during the loneliness and solitary times that I write the most keenly emotional words. It’s hard but I often do try to write (or at least not delete) through the pain and sadness and loneliness. It sounds like you’ve had some positive changes recently — hope there are more in your future. And I do appreciate your kind and encouraging comment. Take care.
You are welcome Lisa.
I too am the lone and lonely coffee shop resident writer, the regular who does that ‘weird’ writing thing, who stares into the ether and makes others uncomfortable. I too walk the dog every day.
When I read this my reaction was “this woman needs a dog”. My furry companion gives me unconditional love, makes me exercise and has led me to many dogpark friends after our daily walk. They in turn give me much food for thought and crazy characters for my writing. Maybe it is for you to welcome a new furbaby into your life.?
Well, it’s very nice to meet another lonely coffee shop writer! Too bad we don’t go to the same coffee shop, huh? As for a new dog, I’m afraid I’m not ready yet — it’s been less than a month and anyway, we are ready for some possible travel… but maybe someday, who knows? For now, I’ve thought of petsitting, too… Here’s to our coffee shop habits. For writing and for socializing!
I so feel what you’re saying here. I used to suffer from loneliness too… alone at home all day, with only my partner to keep me company in the evenings (he used to be gone every weekend).
First, I joined a writing group. That’s some social time at least once a week. Then I joined a meditation group, which is also once a week, and once a month on Sundays.
I also have a kitty whom I love and talk to all day long.
But in the end, we’re the only ones who can do anything about our loneliness. We need to reach out. There’s plenty of people out there who are lonely too, and they’re just as afraid to reach out.
Take the first step. Break the ice. Maybe there’s a friend hiding in that person you cross on your walk every day.
I love your comment, Anabelle, and especially this: “But in the end, we’re the only ones who can do anything about our loneliness. We need to reach out.” It’s so true! And it’s felt good so far to find new social situations because I get to talk to people but also (at the same time) it makes me feel empowered. I will be looking for a writing group, and yes, I’ll break the ice with new friends, and I know I’ll try other new things, too. I really appreciate your encouraging and positive comment. Thank you so much!
Thanks for sharing this, Julia. I’m an introvert who loves my alone time, in life, not just in writing. With a retired husband and a dog (until recently…oh, how I miss our Lab!) at home, family living nearby, my writers’ group, and regular church activities, I think there’s probably a good balance in my life. But I often resist their demands on my time, craving more solitude. I recognize and respect my need to be on my own, and I indulge myself, but balance that by also pushing beyond my comfort levels at other times.
I think it may be one of those ‘forewarned is forearmed’ situations. I know it would be too easy to become a recluse!
I really can commiserate about missing your lab — we lost our sweet Abby almost exactly a month ago. I’m so sorry for your loss, Carol. It’s very hard. It sounds like you have a great balance in your life; that’s great! I’ll get there too.
We’re soul sisters. If I lived closer, I’d walk with you!
I’m an extrovert and have a low tolerance for solitude. I have to make regular time with folks or I end up curled up in a corner in the fetal position.
I’ve found I’m happier working arm in arm with others rather than just visiting face to face. So, my writing group has been a HUGE blessing. We meet in a coffee shop once a week and write for a while. Then we take a chat break and talk shop. Not only is this good for morale, but some great workshops, critique groups, and group marketing events have arisen from the time.
My other solution has been to get a new rescue dog when my old girl moved on. She’s my constant buddy and I find I’m writing dogs into all my stories now :)
I wish we did live closer, how wonderful if I could walk with an extrovert, you’d introduce me to all kinds of new people and places!!! I’m still in the process of trying to find a writers group so I hope I’ll do that — sounds ideal. I may have to actually start one. Nice to meet you Greta!
Your post touched me, and made me a little bit afraid. I do not live alone. My partner and I share mornings and evenings, and we have three dogs, but we live on a ranch on the Cariboo plateau and I love the fact that I can’t see my neighbors’ houses. Like Barry, I can’t imagine writing successfully in a public place.
I guard my solitude jealously. I am happy not to have close friends nearby, although they are just the infrequent long-distance phone call away. I go into town once a week to shop for groceries, but (except for Facebook) that’s usually the limit of my contact with acquaintances or strangers. I like people and I’ll gladly stop to chat with anyone I come in contact with, but I seldom seek out company. I wonder sometimes if I’m setting myself up for what you’ve just described.
Thanks so much for sharing. Your post has certainly made me think.
Ruth
Thank you for your kind words, Ruth. I think just the fact that you’re aware of the possibility of feeling lonely is the best prevention to ever getting there! There’s no reason to assume that your life the way you love it will not continue to fulfill you. If you’re aware and things start feeling unbalanced, you can make small adjustments (if you want to). I think for me it just got enough out of kilter that I was left feeling out of my depth. Glad you found the post helpful. Happy writing!
Loneliness is an epidemic in our society, Julia, so you’re in good company. I think it creeps up on introverts and people who tend to be self-sufficient, so that it can be hard to put your finger on the source of the malaise, or to identify that you’re crossed the line from solitude into loneliness.
I went through something similar a few years ago as my children became more independent. We’re not empty-nesters yet, but we’re close, and at the time I didn’t have a vehicle. The snowy winters were also an obstacle, making most walking I did in service to my now-deceased pooch. (Great, but meant I wasn’t talking to people when I left my home.) A few things that helped me:
*volunteering at the school, particularly helping with the literacy program on a prescribed schedule–the energy and vitality of children is hard to replicate with adults.
*taking a dance class–provided music, playfulness and the company of adults, again on a schedule. Because we were learning choreography, it was to my advantage to show up regularly and not be left behind.
*getting groceries like the Europeans do, so that I’m forced to shop for fresh ingredients every few days.
I’ve since left my dance class to join the gym and take Zumba classes 3-4 times a week. There’s time to visit with fellow attendees both before and after, and at least twice a week I go mid-day, which means fewer long chunks of complete isolation. Because it’s a class where you drop inhibitions, I’m better at socializing; the less I talk to people, the less I want to talk to people, when it’s actually what I most need.
I’m glad you’re feeling better. Good decision to get help and pull out of a tailspin! Drop me a line if you need to chat. Email’s not ideal, but it’s not nothing, either.
Thank you so much for your helpful reply, Jan, and for sharing your experiences. I really appreciate it, espeically your suggestions. You know, that’s something else that’s a big change for me. I used to be an active member of the school and town volunteer community, but when my kids graduated, so did I. I miss the contact with the kids–the energy, as you say–so you may be onto something. I also love to dance so that’s another really good idea, as is Zumba. And especially thank you for the offer to email for a chat. I well may take you up on that after the new year when things slow down and get colder. I so appreciate your very kind words.
Thank you Julia for opening a door up and letting us look in to a subject not often shared so publicly and transparently. As a therapist I find that what you describe is very common and not just for writers. As an author and getting older and going through life changes, I have also experienced that knawing sense of being isolated and lonely.
Feeling alone is different to feeling lonely. The former means that we are by ourselves but still connected to ourselves. When we get lonely, it means we have lost connection to ourselves. At the same time, as you say, the key is balance. Also losing a dog is often a grieving process similar to losing a dear love or friend. My dog was a constant companion and presence in my life and it took me a long time to stop missing him.
I am fortunate now to have a great friend and companion and we have a doggy holiday care business so we have lots of doggy friends who come and go. I still work as a therapist, but alot less. No wonder i am still struggling to find time to write! Yet, loneliness still creeps in that door at times. Perhaps it is part of the human condition and yes, needs to be faced and embraced and then it transforms.
Thank you for your kind words and reassurances, Sherry. Now that I’ve felt both alone and lonely, I can definitely attest to the fact that they are not the same thing. I love the feeling of being alone. Being lonely not so much. You sound like you struck the perfect balance: a friend and a business involving animals. That sounds wonderful. As for embracing and facing loneliness, I’m learning…and I have a feeling it’s one of those ongoing processes that will come and go in waves. Thank you for your kind words and helpful thoughts.
And you go to writers conferences (ahem…Writer Unboxed Unconference) where you meat lots of other introverts who have a wonderful time socializing and meeting people just like them.
Great post.
Thanks for your kind words, Samantha, and yes! Writer Unboxed Unconference would be the perfect antidote to feeling lonely! If only we could do that every week, right?
Thank you for a terrific post, Julia, one that asks for discussion on solutions, not only relating the obvious: writers need solitude. I spent many of my years sure my introverted/near reclusiveness was a defect in need of correction. Only when I began writing seriously did my defect work to my advantage. As you so aptly stated, however, that only works for a time because there is no balance between the inward and outward leaning. Balance is key. Thanks to everyone who offered ways to create that balance. I devour each Writer Unboxed post and always take away some nugget of wisdom.
I’m so glad you enjoyed the post, Diane. Thank you for your kind words. Like you, I discovered that writing is a perfect match with my introvert tendencies, as long as I am careful about that balance. I’m glad you enjoy the WU posts… me too!
I can certainly relate to these feelings, Julia. What helps me shake the doldrums is to volunteer. There are many organizations that love to have extra help. I always try to do something unrelated to writing and something that involves interacting with other people. Even one afternoon a month lifts my spirits.
Thanks for your understanding, Jackie! I really like your idea to volunteer — I’ve been thinking about signing up to help with an English literacy program or even (as you say) something unrelated to writing. It’s such a good idea as a way to interact with people but also to lift my spirits while (hopefully) lifting others. Thanks again my friend!
Julia,
Really kind of you to mention the piece I’d done on solitude last year, thank you. I still remember a lot of poignant responses to that one. The image is important to me, too. I took it off the coast of Skiathos in Greece, a favorite island, having spent a day by myself surrounded by gabbling tourists with whom I blissfully had no need to speak. It recalls a lovely lonesomeness. (And there is such a thing.)
Nothing to add here that you’re not already on top of. It seems to me that you’ve got a very good handle on how you’re looking at what you’ve identified as loneliness.
Understanding everything you say here –and being peculiarly built, it seems, for solitude, myself — I’ll just add that the old cliché about being “lonely in a crowd” has proved far more disturbing for me than solitude, and for as long as I can remember.
Being around people forcibly illustrates to me, time and time again, the shallowness of most interpersonal connection. And if anything, I think that this may sometimes trip us up more than we realize. It’s perfectly logical, especially for writers, to think that solitude is the problem. But instead, maybe it’s the fact that by comparison to the intimacy we have with our characters, actual relationships pale and we’re being let down not by what happens in the solitude but in the crowded times.
I’m way off into the general view here, of course, and not suggesting that any of this has application to your particular situation, Julia, with which you’re coping so well.
All I’ll suggest is…don’t take the door to your writing room off its hinges just yet. :)
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Thank you for your kind words, Porter. I actually think you’re right on. My threshold for the loneliness I’ve felt is very high, so when it hits I need to pay attention. I too have a temperament and disposition well suited to being a writer — as you say, well built for solitude. That said, I’ve experienced that loneliness as well as lonesomeness in a crowd many times…as well as the feeling that I just never quite fit in. I’ve never considered that it was because of the lack of intimacy with real humans in comparison to my characters, but it makes sense….by the end of each of my novels, I start mourning the end of the relationship with my characters, too.
I also sometimes wonder if it’s (in addition) something closely akin: as a writer I love to examine and re-examine the human and social condtion from many different angles, and I’ve not found many others who like to do this quite so thoroughly.
As for that door to my writing room, I wouldn’t worry. Those hinges are pretty solidly intact (as is my love of writing). Thanks again for your kind words, Porter, and I really loved learning more about your trip to Greece and the photograph. Off to give it a second look.
I spend 98% of my time alone. I moved to a relatively new city just over a year ago, where I knew a few people. I lost my best friend last year to stupid drama. My other friends have husbands, wives, kids, they don’t need me around. A friend I’ve had since eighth grade barely acknowledges that we live in the same town. I can’t remember the last time I talked to any of my childhood friends. I’ve thrown myself into my work and school. I don’t have a car so that also puts a damper on things – I can’t just pick up and go somewhere.
Brianna, thanks for your understanding. I agree that throwing myself into my work and writing helps. Not having a car would be very tough where I live (where there’s no putlic transportation), but hopefully your new city has public transporation. Since you’re in school, you must be around other students which gives you daily interaction with lots of people — I’ve thought of taking a class for that reason. Thanks for your comment, and I’m sorry to hear about your times alone. It can be hard.
Julia-
You mentioned depression. It’s worth mentioning that depression and creativity have a link. It’s a genetic trait and runs in families of creative people.
Depression is a serious medical condition. It’s not fun and can, and should, be treated. Suffering is looked upon sympathetically for most but for artists can be romanticized and that’s dangerous.
If anyone reading this suspects that what they’re experiencing is more serious than loneliness, seek help. Please. Don’t suffer needlessly.
As to loneliness itself, love this post but I’m amazed at the coffee bar cure. I live in the homeland of coffee bars, Brooklyn. There are scores of independent coffee bars in my neighborhood . I patronize them all but people do not interact.
I’ve found that true of the gym and yoga classes too. Better are activities that require interaction, like cooking classes and so on, the best connector of all, for me anyway, are the tribal gatherings we call writers’ conferences. I never feel lonely at those.
Thank you, Don. I have a lot of depression in my family, so I was very tuned in to the need to seek professional help.
That’s so interesting about the difference with coffee shops. It may be because I live in a very small town (8500) people feel more free to interact with one another, same true of gyms and yoga classes — lots of familiar faces. (BTW, I envy your choice of coffee shops!) Going to a cooking class is another great idea I may check into. And writer conferences, too; I’ve only been to a couple, but it’s a great suggestion. I have taken a few (day long) classes through the Maine Writers group, and as you say, it was was great to connect to other writers.
I loved the article. I think I will not write all the things I’d like because I really need people; I need groups and spend a lot of time with others. How did I ever become a writer? I was a lonely child who did not quite fit in and so made up worlds. It is a balance for me. My mentor was Madeleine L’Engle who told me, “Even if you ever have the chance to write full time, make sure one day a week you have at least a volunteer job.” She was always traveling to speak everywhere; she also needed people and groups. I guess we all find a balance.
I think you’re right; we each have to find the balance that works for us. I can really relate to your description as a child (me too) and to boot, we traveled a lot and moved, too. You’re lucky you had a compassionate and supportive mentor. Thank you for your comment, Stephanie.
Really great post, Julia, and I KNOW that many writers can relate. With social media, it’s hard to recognize loneliness as quickly because it feels so busy sometimes. But like D. Maass pointed out, even busy people doing things like yoga classes, etc, might not get any true interaction.
Anyway, love your ideas and the topic. I’m a regular in a few coffee shops, too. Fun to see “my people” there.
Thank you so much, Nina. And you make an excellent point that with social media it’s easy for loneliness to sneak up on you since it feels like there’s lots going on with being online. I know it’s going to take some experimentation to see what works for me, but I’ll be looking…Who knows maybe I’ll do a posting to tell what I’ve tried!
Wonderful post, Julia! I can see by the comments you have hit a writing-nerve. Although I wish I could quit my “day job” I know it also keeps me social. When the day comes that I’m fortuntate to stay home and write each day, I know I’ll have to make that effort to get out and connect with others.
In a sense it is how I felt after our empty-nest (after so many years of kids and their activities.) I joined a bowling league, curling club, started golfing again… forcing myself out the door to connect with other adults.
I’m glad you recognized what was happening in your life and that you took the bull by the horns to help yourself – a very important first step! :)
That is such a great point about the day job, Jill — I’m glad you mentioned it. I actually have been applying for jobs. Clearly finances are a driving force, but I remember from when I was working outside the home exactly what you say: it kept me social. I definitely need to join some groups and continue walking in the direction I started. I so appreciate your kind words and empathy. (and curling? I have ALWAYS wanted to try, now there’s an idea! Thank you! I’ve also thought of fly fishing.)
Curling is a very social sport (I’d have never thought that until I tried it) and I have met so many fun people through the sport! Best of luck to you. Sometimes it’s hard to push ourselves out that door, but once I’m out, I’m so glad I took that first step. :)
I can definitely relate, Julia. I went through a similar thing when my eldest went to college. The ebb and flow of life, right? I don’t really have anything else to add to the wonderful suggestions everyone else already mentioned, so I’ll just offer cyber hugs.
Thank you a million for the cyber hugs, Karen. They mean so much. The ebb and flow of life, exactly. Sending hugs back, friend.
Thankfully I live on a small, rural island and artisan of all descriptions make up a large percentage of the population. This means that there are many venues in which to connect and the people involve understand the demands of a muse.
I’d recommend reaching out to others. Do you have an interest that you haven’t explore? Why not join a group? It will only enhance your writing.
Your island community sounds amazing and wonderful, Leanne! As you suggest, I have been reaching out to others. I am actively trying to come up with a new interest to explore and will definitely join a group once I do — I love that it could enhance my writing, too. Thans for your comment.
Hi Julia ( I have written a few notes over on your other blog ) .
I have always been happier on my own too but we all have moments of loneliness .
I think at times like that I might go to the Library to be with like-minded people . Librarians ‘should ‘ love book so you can chat about your latest .
I also go for a swim in the local baths people will smile and makes comments they are in a relaxed situation …it helps .
I am new to my area, and I recently met a lovely lady at the launderette, who had great information about the area .
After reading your your last blog I know you have lost your dog . Please take my advice get yourself another little sweetheart . You will never ever replace your other , I know I have been there, but with all the joyous antics of a new puppy it takes your mind off bad thoughts .
Take care Cherryx
Thank you so much for coming over to Writer Unboxed and leaving another comment, Cherry, it truly means so much. And I really appreciate the suggestions and your caring. I love the idea of the library and will probably hang out there more! And no worries about mentioning a dog or furry friend– maybe some day — again, I really appreciate you reaching out. Best, Julia
Sorry Julia I have just read Pamela’s comment . I sure in your own time you ‘ll get yourself another furry friend it was just a thought.
Cherryx
Whew! I finally made it back here! I’ve been meaning/wanting to get my comment over here, but haven’t had enough “lonely” time, of all things! Julia, I love this because this is the first time since I left working in an office (May 2011) where I have noticed occasional pangs of loneliness set in. Don’t get me wrong–I savor my solitude and am lucky to get so much of it on a daily basis. It recharges me. But, I’m noticing that after 3+ years of mostly writing from my home or yard, I am not getting the kind of flow and creative spark that I used to. I think for a long while I was living on reserves–all the things I wanted to write about but never had the time to until I quit working at the law firm and went solo. But now, the well seems dry once in a while–some of that is that I am in the sweet spot of parenting with not much to find essay/blog post-worthy, but a good chunk (I now realize) is needing other people around once in a while to get new ideas. So, I’ve been enjoying the hour every Tuesday my daughter is in pottery class to go sit at the Dunkin Donuts on the same block as her class. I might be the only New Englander who hates their coffee (thankfully I like their cappuccino!), but I must say I’ve really gotten some good flow from there just because of the people who come in and out. And I think I am going to take your advice and start leaving my house once a day other than to drive my daughter to/from school. I think it will help a lot. And lastly, you are NOT the weird woman in the corner!! :)
Okay, first, I’m so glad you commented, Kristen! Thank you for your thoughtful and supportive words. Second, you are *not* the only New Englander who hates Dunkin Donuts coffee (me too). Third, I’m glad you’re going to start going to places other than to take your daughter to school — you can never get into those habits too early in my opinion. Lastly, before you can be sure I’m not the weird woman in the corner, I think this spring we should meet somewhere in between for coffee!! What do you think? :)
Your words could have been mine. With all of the marvels of technology it’s a shame we have no means of connecting with other “alone” writers beyond blogs and Twitter, which give the sense of real-time, but are not, really. I’ve been searching for writers to join, or to start up, a writing group here in Austin for nearly a year, with no luck yet. But it seems like one of the best ways to find community with my peers. Your post is well-timed and appreciated, Julia.
Now your words could have been mine, Jann! I’ve been searching for a writing group, too, with no luck. I’m so glad you can relate (well, glad you understand — not glad you feel lonely), and it does make me feel less alone. As you say, it’s a shame we can’t figure out how to connect with other alone writers. There must be a way! Nice to meet you!
I so get you on this, Julia. It is so easy to get sucked into a daily routine that is as predictable as the rising and setting of the sun. I was desperate to change things up because if I realized that if I didn’t get out and live a little, I wouldn’t be able to “write what I knew” or even know more unless I did more!
I struggled with guilt about writing (or not writing) every day and I eventually figured out it was a downward spiral of emotions either way. Now, my plan is to write each day but it may be different mediums depending on what is happening in my life. It may be a journal entry, a blog post, my fiction, mind mapping a new article, or writing a handwritten note to a friend. This has led me to live more mindful and intentional on how I spend my days.
I also visit a local coffee shop, usually once a week, to change things up and find that it feeds the social connection I’m yearning for. (Much healthier than FB!) I also go to yoga/gym and strike up conversations to feel connected. I love my solitude as well but often we find that too much of a good thing is not a good thing.
I’m grateful for you and for our friendship! Any time you feel lonely, you know who to call!
xo
Thanks so much for understanding and empathizing, Hallie. I think living in the present with more intention really goes a long way in helping make things feel more manageable and help me manage the guilt more effectively. I also agree that being in the real world (vs. Facebook or social networking) makes me feel less lonely….as does a call or chat with a friend. Can’t wait until we talk again as the holidays and other life forces are less consuming. Thanks for understanding, friend!
Same name and almost same boat! Lost my beloved lab/newfie a year ago and kids headed off to college ….after being in a rut for quite while getting a puppy and working one morning in a soup kitchen really helped the isolation feelings.
Nice to meet another Julia…and especially one who has worked herself out of the rut. I’ve thought of the soup kitchen, too. A good way to get outside myself, meet other people, and also do something for the good of others (and myself). But the puppy… not yet… thanks for your comment, Julia!
I really appreciate the honesty and candid nature of this post, Julia. So many of us have felt this way, and it’s incredibly important to hear that we aren’t the only ones struggling with feeling lonely or isolated. Also, thank you for being so open and casual about deciding to go talk to a therapist. Man, that’s refreshing. So many people keep that under wraps, but there’s no need. We all need help sometimes.
It wasn’t until I talked to you about this that I realized how very lucky I am right now to have a local community of writers who’ve become my friends. Interacting with people face-to-face fulfills an important part of me that simply can’t be filled online. (Though Skype’s pretty good. :) ) Thank you for sharing your struggles. They’ve reminded me to be grateful for my current community, and to keep this in mind in the future, because change is inevitable. I hope you find a good balance soon. You can always reach out to me if you want to see a friendly face. :)
I’m glad you appreciated the post, Annie; thank you for your kind words. One of the reasons I wrote it was that I knew it was a common theme for writers and I wanted to connect with other writers who felt the same way. I wish I had what you have — the community of writers. I’ve started looking and hope to find a local group next year. Until then, reaching out to other writers over the Internet is a wonderful way to get together with other writers, so no doubt we’ll talk again soon, can’t wait! :)