Are we ever truly alone?
Loneliness
More people are spending Christmas alone in the UK, whether by choice or not. According to the Campaign to End Loneliness approximately 7.1% of people in Great Britain experienced chronic loneliness in 2022. This is up from 6% in 2020. Loneliness is not a ‘mental health’ problem in itself but is linked to earlier death, poorer ‘mental health’, mental wellbeing, confidence, stress, lack of sleep and so on. I keep ‘mental health’ in quotations because I associate it with the medical model of diagnosis and treatment, which is subject to criticism. For example, the medical model would say that if I’m unhappy there is something wrong with me. Usually, this is an imbalance of chemicals in my brain which can be fixed with medication, perhaps alongside therapy. This may ignore social or environmental factors, such as societal injustice or the impacts of poverty. Whereas from my background in existential therapy, there is nothing broken about feeling unhappy, so nothing about me needs fixing. If I’m sad or lonely there will be a good reason for this. That’s not to say there is no place for the medical model, but it is worth bearing in mind these criticisms.
The first underlying principle in existential therapy is existential relatedness. This principle reverses the idea that we are all born as individuals and then form relationships. Instead, it’s argued that we are born in relationship, and then afterwards form a sense of self. I did not appear from nowhere plucked from the cosmos, but was born from the love of my parents. Without their relationship, there would be no ‘I’. Even if a woman uses an anonymous sperm donation, the relationship between mother and child still exists before the child has a sense of ‘me’. So it follows that relationships are a fundamental part of being human. I am always in relationship, even if indirectly. If I moved to the woods and started growing my own food, attempting to live entirely independently, I am still in relationship. The tools I need to grow my own food, the clothes on my back, and most likely some of the parts that form my home all exist because of other people’s labour. Even if we forget how I came to exist and think of the most extreme case of isolation, where I have somehow created my own clothes and tools and home, I am still in relationship with the living world around me. Ecosystems are not isolated, but interdependent. I’m reading The Hidden Life of Trees at the moment, which shows how trees form networks, support each other and communicate with each other. In fact, attempting to isolate myself from people and the world would really bring into awareness how much my survival is dependent on the ecosystem in which I live.
The nature of loneliness
What is loneliness then? It can be defined as a ‘subjective, unwelcome feeling of lack or loss of companionship. Loneliness happens when there is a mismatch between the quantity and quality of the social relationships that we have and those that we want’. It is therefore not just about being alone. My experience of loneliness is very different from that of being alone, which for me is often very necessary. After spending Christmas with family, I often find I need some time alone afterwards. Or, to find pockets of solitude while in company. Loneliness is a very different feeling. When I recall times in my life when I’ve felt particularly lonely, it had that element of comparison or mismatch from the quote above. There was a yearning quality to my experience, desperately wanting to be in companionship. Not just in company, but connected to others. It’s a cliché but it is very possible to be lonely in a crowd. So loneliness is not a state of being alone and doesn’t necessarily end if I’m with others. It’s a feeling in me of a lack of connection.
We can say that loneliness comes in different types, which may help illuminate it further as an idea. There can be emotional loneliness, where I feel an absence of meaningful relationships. Or social loneliness, where I perceive a deficit in the quality of social connection. Finally, existential loneliness, where I experience a fundamental separation from the world and other people. Note that emotional loneliness is about a lack of meaningful relationships, not a lack of relationships. Similarly, social loneliness is about a perception of the quality of connections, again not a lack of connections. It’s easy to see that the difference between desire and reality is what brings these concepts together, rather than the level of contact between people. On the one hand, I know that complete isolation is not good for me. But as mentioned earlier I know that some solitude can be very beneficial. Others may have different experiences and need different levels and depths of human connection at different times in their lives
Loneliness by gender, culture and age
Loneliness has been self-reported as higher in men than women, higher in younger people than middle-aged, higher in middle-aged than older people (contrary to what is often reported), and higher in more individualist (vs collectivist) countries. LGBTQ people are more likely to experience loneliness than heterosexual people, which could be partly demographic, and partly due to that part of their identity being stigmatised. I recommend reading this article on men’s loneliness, and this investigation into loneliness among trans people.
I can talk more about men’s loneliness as a man myself. My experience is that men are less likely to open up to each other than women. That means that it’s easier to have closer relationships with women and that relationships with other men can be more surface-level. Meaningful emotional connection, one of the counters to loneliness, is gained through vulnerability. Vulnerability is often perceived as a weakness among men, certainly in this country. For this reason, I love seeing vulnerable depictions of men in film, as it helps break this stereotype. I recently saw Godzilla Minus One, in which one main character (who is shown to be heroic through his actions) breaks down and cries at one point. I realised how impactful it can be to see men cry. Some of my closest relationships with men have depth because we have shared experiences of vulnerability. But it can be hard for men to be vulnerable around each other. We’re often taught that vulnerability is weakness and ‘unmanly’. When showing my vulnerable side I’ve had reactions from both men and women where they just don’t know what to do. Women crying is treated as normal, but when a man cries it’s assumed he must be at absolute breaking point.
Solitude
When I think of solitude I imagine walking in the woods. It can be scary if like me you’ve had experiences of getting lost and the sun starting to set. But it can also be really enjoyable. I think of the German word Waldeinsamkeit, the feeling of enjoyment when you’re alone in the forest. Or Waldbaden, ‘bathing’ in the atmosphere of the forest. These words don’t have their equivalent in English, but hopefully these translations get the ideas across. There is something almost unique about being alone in the woods, so I understand why the Germans have a word for it. But that feeling can be experienced in other areas of nature (e.g. witnessing the majesty of the mountains or a vast lake). I’m reminded again of The Hidden Life of Trees, and wonder if there is some level, as yet not fully understood, where the trees sense my presence there. You don’t have to subscribe to notions of spirituality to understand this. But there is something magical about being alone among trees, and there can be a ‘bathing’ quality to the experience.
Countering loneliness
Based on what I’ve written the counter to loneliness may seem obvious – meaningful connections. But how do I forge those? To have a meaningful connection with someone is to share something of my being with them, and that involves being vulnerable. To be vulnerable with someone else is risky. I might feel exposed, they might take advantage, they might be cruel. If someone was cruel or took advantage of me in the past, it might make me less likely to open up to others in the future. This would be very understandable. But that is the risk and reward balance, we must show ourselves to be seen. Specific tips are hard to give because everyone is different, so I can only speak from my own lived experience. A love of cinema helped me connect with others, partly because cinema is a ‘one step removed’ show of vulnerability. Most films are about people, and relationships, and involve vulnerability. Connecting with cinema taught me a lot about myself, and showed me different ways of being and connecting with others. Going to the cinema doesn’t have to be a group activity of course, but there are often clubs or societies which may add a social aspect to film-going itself.
Of course, there are many other ways to connect with others if you are feeling isolated, through sports groups, support groups, book clubs, games nights and so on. There will be limits to what you can do though, if (for example) you have little time on your hands. One way to explore all this, of course, is through counselling. Therapy can be a way of exploring the experience of loneliness, and any barriers that may currently be in place stopping meaningful social connections. Therapy in itself is an act of vulnerability and can act as a kind of bridge between making other meaningful connections.