From childhood to the present, I have been a solitary and lonely man. Repeatedly I have identified with the miserable and the forlorn, and I cling with a death grip to whatever person, place, or belief that seems the current answer to my anguished and ceaseless search for orientation and structure. According to family lore I was indulged by tender-hearted parents but still proved troublesome and self-willed. Schoolmates who knew me before I was twelve, years later particularly remembered my apartness: "He did not play like other children but read all sorts of books insatiably. . . . He liked to go by himself on many long walks. . . . Gary went off on his own for most of the time and wandered for hours." My sister recalls that as I grew older I was perfectly unconscious of having distressed my parents in that I never joined the happy family group, never met people, but always sought solitude. Struggling constantly with melancholia, I as child and man have been an observer rather than a participant.As an adult my dream of happiness has posed an insoluble paradox. At the same time as I see the world of everyday events and people as infinitely appealing, I see it as overwhelmingly threatening; every corner in the dizzying tangle of nature reflects my own internal chaos. The best I can do to keep my tumultuous and unstructured fears at bay is to withdraw from social contacts, retreat rather than merger has consistently characterized my efforts to overcome a pervasive sense of inadequacy and disillusionment.
It has been a relatively mild winter--but for a long time--two months to be exact--I have rarely left my room; I don't know why. What I need is courage, and this often fails me. When I visit the library I am overwhelmed by a sense of alienation from the library patrons and staff to such a horrible extent that I shy away from going there. Only when I am alone in my room do I feel somewhat alive. Alone, I only count on the exaltation that comes to me at certain moments and then I let myself run to extravagances.
What I need is a palliative for the ever-present personal torment of emptiness, loneliness, and depression and a weapon against the disorganization of my inner life and reality that threaten me.
Have you tried going to coffee shops on your own? I, and many people who I know, like nothing better than sitting in a coffee shop, not necessarily drinking coffee (I for one get palpitations from decaf), reading a book or newspaper, maybe even using the internet, watching the world go by, seeing people, hearing conversations, being amongst others without the pressure of socialising. You'd be alone without being lonely. This is not meant to be an answer to your struggles, just a friendly suggestion. Take care of yourself....
ReplyDeleteHi Gary,
ReplyDeleteThis blog you have written is very sad. I think there is nothing wrong with enjoying time to yourself but perhaps it should not be spent thinking about all the negative things that have happened to you. Do you not see any joy in the gift of life? You have a home (which i guess is furnished in a comfortable way), some disposable income and you do have a family although you may not speak to them. This is far more than some people have in their life. I think that deep down you would perhaps like to have some more friends to socialise with and by writing your daily struggles you are making some effort to make friends. Maybe by making a bit more effort like joing a gym or getting a pet dog you would find social interactions a bit easier. Just a thought. Take care.