Loneliness...


Just something I wrote some time ago...


What is it about my own company that, when I’m surrounded by loads of other people, I love so much, yet detest when I’m alone and surrounded by nothing more than creaking of walls, ticking of clocks and cooling of pipes…? Why is it so difficult to be on my own when needs must, and also be so uncomfortable when I must surround myself by loads of people? Right now all I have is my own heart, mind, stomach, lungs… I’m nothing more than a simple organism when I’m this alone.

I’m naturally a depressive person, so when left on my own for long enough… Well, the voice inside my head seems so much louder. When I’m alone all I can do is listen to that voice, and finally I hear what it is saying and I can no longer ignore it; it is as if a window has been left wide open in the torrential rain and the water is flooding the previously warm, safe and happy home.

I expect everyone can empathise with me when I say that loneliness is somewhat addictive; you become trapped in its ensnaring embrace. Too low in mood to seek company, and feeling both too stubborn and too much like an attention seeker to admit you feel so… And so you carry on, sulking on your own and alone. Feverishly agitated and bored. But then again not everyone is the same, and maybe, after all, I am even alone in my loneliness; not everyone is addicted to it as I am.

And yet – there is always a yet, that turning point in life where you realise that the life you lead is missing something… ‘And yet’, I am still human. I still find myself thinking, as each day passes, of all the smaller things I haven’t obtained yet. I still desire to be loved wholly, to love others without fear, to care without consequence, to laugh endlessly, to dance carefree, to hate openly, to cry freely, to sigh loudly, to do something reckless, to just ‘live’…  Alas, ‘living’ is a hard concept to define; living to me may mean something completely different than it does to you. Once again, I am alone in my concept of living also. Loneliness and ‘living’, my two worst enemies yet they are my drugs; I cannot get through my life without them for I am addicted to being the lonely, self-destructing, daydreaming, overly passionate (about the wrong things) human that I am.

All I seem to do when alone is ask a string of questions that I cannot answer. Why am I such a dull person? Why am I not good enough? Why can I not do the tasks laid before me as well as others? Why do I have to put twice as much effort into the things that others barely even blink at the idea of? Why is it I have never found anyone who understands these questions I always ask? Why can no one answer me? Will I always be so alone…? The only answer I ever found was that I just don’t try hard enough, and that was in response to the question of why… Why can’t… Why can I not… I forget the rest. I just have that one answer, but I cannot remember the question I asked when I founded it. I guess it’s probably because it’s the answer to all my questions; I will never get to where I dream to be because ‘I just don’t try hard enough’. My excuse? It hurts to. That’s why I don’t put my heart into everything I do, because I’m afraid it will get trodden on. I don’t like being told something isn’t good enough or is completely wrong, when I put my heart into it, because then they’re saying that I’m not good enough that I’m wrong.

Thinking. It’s all I can do now. I have to listen, my loneliness has opened up my heart, and all I hear is what it has to say. The constant trickling of water down a stream of emotion, like a leaf floating on its water, I cannot ignore the fact that I’m gaining pace and traveling towards bigger things. My loneliness makes me realise that no how much I say I don’t care; I know that if I were to fail I would be torn in two. My heart, my soul… Destroyed. But ‘I just don’t try hard enough’. Who would I be if I succeed in life whilst still carrying on the mindset that I have now? A fraud? A cheat? Or just damn lucky? I say I don’t care, and that I just don’t try hard enough and because of that I will crash and burn someday soon. And yet… And yet, I cannot help but lose my passion for succeeding, because I don’t care, and I can’t keep trying, but I’m already falling, I’m already crashing, I’m already burning…

There’s a hole below my chest somewhere between my diaphragm and my guts, I feel this empty hollowness there, an occasional desperate pang, and an overwhelming sense of disappointment. I am not the person I daydream I am. I am not the person I dream to be. I am not the sort of person that is ‘living’ as I dream I am; I am a meteorite. I’m falling, I’m burning and eventually I’ll crash to the ground, but I’ll be almost a hundred times less than the person that I started out as.

Comments

  1. The page forces me to split this into two replies. So, you’ll have to copy/paste it into notepad or whatever to read it correctly.
    Dear Lilian,

    a few months ago, I stumbled over your Instagram profile. I was kinda craving bagles, searched out of boredom and found one of your posts. As said, I was bored and brand new to Instagram. Don't ask. :P
    I checked a few more posts, checked your link and read your poetry, which I liked. Then you went offline for a while and I wondered why - until I read this post of yours. By pure coincedence, I actually visited this page after weeks, maybe even months, of not checking it, due to you not updating very often (and me being a bit busy as well).

    You write you are a "naturally depressive person", especially when left on your own for long enough. Welcome to my world. I love being around people (If I understood right, you don't?) and I feel right at home on my friends' parties.
    And yet, when I come home, I have the exact same feelings that you describe: The apartment is dark, empty - quiet. All I hear is the rain on the windows in the autumn or the heating system when it's cold. It's one hell of a thing to live through, in my humble opinion. It makes me horribly depressed, because I know I crave more. Alas I can't always do something with friends and yet just sitting there, reading, watching a movie, working or gaming on the PC, is - while all things I greatly enjoy - diminished by the fact that I do them BECAUSE there's nothing else to do. I can chose from these, or head out on my own - and let's be honest: Going to a pub/whatever on your own is seldom a great experience. It's kinda the old "don't turn your hobby into your job" thing. If you turn your hobby into your job, you are forced to do it. Not for enjoyment, but because you have to do it. Well, at least that's how I feel about it.

    I can absolutely sympathise with what you have said about the voice in your head. It's the same here and stronger the longer I just sit around and "keep doing my thing" at home, alone. I guess what's different between you and me is that I *think* I am not (yet?) trapped in my own loneliness. I'm still actively seeking company, but I can see where you are coming from and I agree that I can see myself "going there".

    Your description of "living" is interesting. You say you think about the "smaller things" that are still missing. What do you mean? Are we talking about physical things here? Possessions? Or rather achievements?
    Sometimes I fear what you describe in that paragraph: That I am in fact longing for no longer being alone, yet at the same time so addicted to it, without even realising it. That I undermine my own efforts in getting rid of the loneliness. That I am absolutely trapped in this circle as well. I believe I am not. I believe I don't. Alas, sometimes, when I think about it, I catch myself starting to drift in that direction.

    I wonder why you say you are a dull person. Ok, I admit, I can only talk from the viewpoint of someone who "knows" you from Instagramm, but judging from that, you are everything but. You have interests that define you. And they define you as everything BUT dull. At least to me you are/seem so and I steer clear from dull people.
    I would like to know what kind of tasks you are talking about, when you say it takes twice as much effort from you, than it takes from others. Same goes for asking questions - what kind of questions?

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  2. My personal experience is, that for the longest time I would not know what I'm good at. I was stuck. There was nothing I looked at, that most (and I mean most most most) others, couldn't do better.
    I have an interested in computers. I have an interest in watercolour painting. In model-kit building. Downhill-biking. Photography. In the end, I realized that I was looking at it the wrong way. I was always looking at other people who had either a natural tendency to get those things right, or just excelled at them through rigorous training (and lots of it).
    Or maybe you are just talking about some sort of procrastination? I'd love to hear more.
    Anyway, it's definitely not because of "not trying hard enough". Regardless if it's because of some feat you want to learn, or if it's because you tend to procrastinate, it's most likely just a stupid circle. You do something. You don't get it right/not as well as others and/or it takes longer than it takes others. Instead of just ignoring that and keeping on doing it, you stop, or talk your way into believing you can't do it. Thus completely robbing yourself of any chance of getting where you want to go. I think you might have reached the point where you want to do something but undermine yourself.
    Especially when reading the last part of that paragraph of yours once more, I guess you need some more emotional armour. I can absolutely understand where you are coming from, because sometimes I have been in your shoes. There's nothing more than doing something you like to do and then having it badmouthed.
    My father was like that. It didn't matter what hobby I picked. Photography - too expensive (no it isn't). Astronomy - why bother, you can't beat the Hubble space telescope anyway. The list goes on and on. The result? I'd spend most of my time as a teen on the PC. Yay. Time well spent.
    Now I know that I don't care what others think. I'm living my own life. If I do something, I ask a carefully selected group what they think about it and - and this is important - where I could and where I should improve on it. I take a picture that I love, edit it and ask an online photo community. They will give honest replies and yet would never trod on it. They will tell me where my weakness lies, what I should change. What I should learn. I love it. I never expect to be a great photographer, but I learn so much and I know that at one point I will know enough to feel very comfortable taking pictures.
    Be careful who you pick though. Depending on what you do, there's always people who'll - quite honest, too - tell you that you are great. Then it hurts even more when someone who knows what he's say, tells you the truth. Talent shows are full of people who were told, by honest friends, they could sing/dance/whatever and who go home in tears. Could that be your problem?

    Lilian, never tell yourself that you are a cheat. You are who you are. You are a gorgeous gal with lots of quirky fragments. You have passions and fears and that's normal. And there's always ways out of any problems. I like what I read on your blog(s), I like your Instagram posts (that grey & black dress looked splendid!) and I just checked your lookbook entries - love them! Drop me a line. :-)


    Daniel

    P.S.: Please don't hit me over the head for any bad spelling and/or grammar. I'm German. ;P

    P.P.S.: If that one picture of yours means you have flown in a biplane, I am SO bloody jealous. :P

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    Replies
    1. Oh my. I think I need a moment to compose myself and let all that sink in. I'll be back to reply to ALL your questions. But for now, thank you... Just thank you. :')

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    2. Haha, take all the time you need. If you rather talk in private, just search for me on Facebook. ;-)

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    3. I think you might have forgotten something... ;)

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