Loneliness
Well, it’s been a while since I wrote on this blog, hasn’t it? Initially, I wanted to address a concern of mine that’s been stuck in my head a bit lately; namely, shallowness and the concept of beauty in this society of ours, but I think I’ll save that for another time. Instead, I thought I’d just give you, dear reader, an update as to my current state of mind and situation.
As always, life feels like a series of setbacks and opportunities and the horrifying moat of confusion that inevitably separates the two. I’ve been extremely lucky, in that things have sort of settled down after my 18-month-long sojourn into the state of high-functioning depression we all sort of nonchalantly refer to as “unrequited love,” as if it was some kind of adolescent foolishness. I find that term almost demeaning, like we’re belittling the way the person actually going through all of that anguish feels. I’ve had so many people give me such sage advice as “Get over it, buddy!” Were it only so easy…
But I digress. I felt the need to write after the past couple of weeks, mainly because it’s a creative and philosophical muscle I need to exercise and also because it’s a therapeutic tool for me. I know that all this must seem terribly boring for some of you, but I need to share my feelings somewhere. Because, as we know, keeping things bottled up only leads to bad shit going down somewhere along the line.
All that said, what I really wanted to talk about in this post is loneliness, and the way that sort of shapes our view of love and our desire for love from others, at least from my perspective. I think it’s ironic that I’m surrounded by friends, coworkers, and loved ones everyday of my life, but I still feel lonely. Naturally, I (mostly) enjoy their company, and I've developed quite a few close relationships with certain people I’ve met online, but I feel like something is missing. I shouldn’t feel as lousy or as empty as I do most of the time.
I think that part of the truth of the matter is that I don't really love myself. That should be painfully obvious to most readers of this blog, but I have self-esteem issues out the proverbial wazoo. I look for acceptance and appreciation and affirmation from others without really giving it to myself. I am deeply dissatisfied with the fact that I'm not living up to my potential, or at least, I don't really believe that I am. I suppose everyone feels that to a degree, so I'm (somewhat ironically) not alone.
However, I often find myself asking the question that I'm afraid to answer. The one that haunts me from the moment I wake up to the instant I fall asleep.
Where do I go from here?
Interestingly, I recently read an interview with Taylor Momsen, the lead singer of a pretty freakin’ awesome rock band called The Pretty Reckless, where the interviewer asked her the same question. After she expressed her love for Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon (a fact which only makes me love her more), Momsen replied as follows:
Her answer hits home for me in more ways than one. There have been many times in my life when I've felt like things are stagnant, like my life is stuck in neutral and not going anywhere. Sometimes it's true, and sometimes I feel that way because I'm a perfectionist who's very hard on myself when it comes to living up to my perceived potential. I know where my strengths and weaknesses are in that regard, but trying to use that knowledge to improve my life has proven difficult, to say the least.
Still, looking back on the past year and a half, I can see that things have gotten better in some ways. I feel more independent now than I did a year ago, my weight has decreased a bit, and I've become a far more open and sociable person. I'm less afraid to try new things than I once was, and I've cultivated friendships with some incredibly interesting people over the past few weeks alone (shout out to Kirsten and Tricia!).
And yet, there's still this...gnawing at the back of my brain, and a void in my heart. There's a piece of me missing, and I'm not sure how to get it back. I'm not sure what to do to combat this loneliness and the emptiness I feel. All I know is that I love my friends and family, and I know they love me, too. That will just have to be enough.
For now.
As always, life feels like a series of setbacks and opportunities and the horrifying moat of confusion that inevitably separates the two. I’ve been extremely lucky, in that things have sort of settled down after my 18-month-long sojourn into the state of high-functioning depression we all sort of nonchalantly refer to as “unrequited love,” as if it was some kind of adolescent foolishness. I find that term almost demeaning, like we’re belittling the way the person actually going through all of that anguish feels. I’ve had so many people give me such sage advice as “Get over it, buddy!” Were it only so easy…
But I digress. I felt the need to write after the past couple of weeks, mainly because it’s a creative and philosophical muscle I need to exercise and also because it’s a therapeutic tool for me. I know that all this must seem terribly boring for some of you, but I need to share my feelings somewhere. Because, as we know, keeping things bottled up only leads to bad shit going down somewhere along the line.
All that said, what I really wanted to talk about in this post is loneliness, and the way that sort of shapes our view of love and our desire for love from others, at least from my perspective. I think it’s ironic that I’m surrounded by friends, coworkers, and loved ones everyday of my life, but I still feel lonely. Naturally, I (mostly) enjoy their company, and I've developed quite a few close relationships with certain people I’ve met online, but I feel like something is missing. I shouldn’t feel as lousy or as empty as I do most of the time.
I think that part of the truth of the matter is that I don't really love myself. That should be painfully obvious to most readers of this blog, but I have self-esteem issues out the proverbial wazoo. I look for acceptance and appreciation and affirmation from others without really giving it to myself. I am deeply dissatisfied with the fact that I'm not living up to my potential, or at least, I don't really believe that I am. I suppose everyone feels that to a degree, so I'm (somewhat ironically) not alone.
However, I often find myself asking the question that I'm afraid to answer. The one that haunts me from the moment I wake up to the instant I fall asleep.
Where do I go from here?
Interestingly, I recently read an interview with Taylor Momsen, the lead singer of a pretty freakin’ awesome rock band called The Pretty Reckless, where the interviewer asked her the same question. After she expressed her love for Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon (a fact which only makes me love her more), Momsen replied as follows:
“I think the long-term goal is to continue to grow as people and as a unit, individually and together, and hopefully continue to keep making records that are better every time, because if you’re not moving forward, you’re either standing still or regressing.”
Her answer hits home for me in more ways than one. There have been many times in my life when I've felt like things are stagnant, like my life is stuck in neutral and not going anywhere. Sometimes it's true, and sometimes I feel that way because I'm a perfectionist who's very hard on myself when it comes to living up to my perceived potential. I know where my strengths and weaknesses are in that regard, but trying to use that knowledge to improve my life has proven difficult, to say the least.
Still, looking back on the past year and a half, I can see that things have gotten better in some ways. I feel more independent now than I did a year ago, my weight has decreased a bit, and I've become a far more open and sociable person. I'm less afraid to try new things than I once was, and I've cultivated friendships with some incredibly interesting people over the past few weeks alone (shout out to Kirsten and Tricia!).
And yet, there's still this...gnawing at the back of my brain, and a void in my heart. There's a piece of me missing, and I'm not sure how to get it back. I'm not sure what to do to combat this loneliness and the emptiness I feel. All I know is that I love my friends and family, and I know they love me, too. That will just have to be enough.
For now.
Comments
Post a Comment