On loneliness.

There are many kinds of loneliness in life. There is the loneliness of ostracism as a child when you stand alone and watch the others play. There is the loneliness of being the only one who believes differently in a family of conformists. There is the loneliness of being superfluous in a relationship. Solitude is when one is alone by choice as I often like to be. It is only in solitary moments that one renews oneself or let’s one’s thoughts flow freely without apprehension as to whether it would offend or be misunderstood. Solitude is to be savoured in small doses however and I like being with people almost as much as I like being by myself.

Loneliness is not something one chooses – it is thrust upon you when you least desire it. I am often lonely even in a crowd if I feel no connection whatsoever with those around me. I can get lonely in a room full of relatives and loved ones simply because there is an intense disassociation when I feel misunderstood. But probably the hardest kind of loneliness to face is the one where you are in a relationship and yet you feel like that extra bit of coleslaw on a plate of burger and fries that no one quite wants.

I deal with loneliness the way I deal with a lot of other unpleasantness that sometimes comes my way – I acknowledge it and then move on to other things. If it is a particularly strong and painful kind of loneliness, then I let it wash over me and try to write down how I feel. Sometimes none of that works very well and I immerse myself in my children or a zillion mechanical chores so I am too tired to think and then the feeling passes.

I think my current feeling is inspired by the fact that my birthday is around the corner – somehow my birthdays are when I feel the most intense loneliness ever. The day when I used to expect to be treated as though I were special is the day when it is driven home to me how routine my existence is. No one goes out of their way to make that day worthwhile. Maybe as my children grow older they will celebrate with me. For my husband, its simply too much effort. My friends are few and mostly far away so I only get calls. My sister and brother always remember to call too. And yet the day is something I just want to get over with because while it is fine to be ordinary on other days, that one day of the year I always crave a little bit of attention and unfailingly get disappointed. Perhaps this year is different or will be if I decide to simply go and celebrate myself – maybe just this once I can look forward to a birthday instead of hearing the oft repeated “but that’s just too much effort” over and over again in my mind.