Wednesday, May 15, 2013

One is the Loneliest Number

Writing can be a lonely endeavor.  It's just you and the blank piece of paper (or blank Word document on your computer screen).  There's no one there to help you through it.  No one to tell you what to do.  There's just you and your imagination in an empty, quiet room.  It can be equal parts thrilling and... lonely.

I've been feeling very lonely lately, and it has little to do with the number of people I'm surrounded with or that I encounter in any given day.  In fact, I am blessed with an amazing husband, dear life-long-friends, and a terrific writing colleague.  They are all loving, supportive, offer good criticisms, hold me accountable to my goals, and are always there for me, through thick and thin. There's even the immediate gratification of interacting with all of you, Gentle Readers, who are also a connection point for me through the miracle of the interwebs.  But at the end of the day, it's still all up to me.

As I said, I have found myself struggling with loneliness lately, in almost every area of my life.  I work a part-time job in a very small office, staffed with very few people, and the rest of the time I freelance out of my home where it's just me, myself, and I.  When it comes to my freelance work, if I want to run an idea by someone, there's no co-worker to ask.  If I have a question about something, there's no manager to email.  When clients are unreasonable or difficult, there's no client representative to mediate for me. When I wonder how to promote my skills, there's no marketing department to point me in the right direction. I feel like I'm just floating out there, alone. 

Then of course, there are the personal struggles - having family members pass away or fall away from being in my life, when my family is so little to begin with, having friends move away or drift away as they often do, especially in such a transient state like Arizona, and then there's the exclusion that comes from not having "normal" interests or not having children or whatever the excluding factor is that eliminates me from a given social group.  I don't begrudge anyone that, I suppose.  Even on days when I really needed someone to talk to recently, friends were unavailable because of prior commitments, and my husband was called into work for an emergency and had to stay beyond his normal working hours.  Or there have been times where I have shared what I've been struggling with, only to have the other person shut me down because they either couldn't understand why I couldn't cope with life or they themselves couldn't deal with what I was telling them.

All of this has just made it painfully clear to me that we all long for connection, but no one can fully understand what it feels like to be me, to have the thoughts and feelings I have, as I walk through the practical and emotional challenges I've been facing.  That sounds really arrogant, like I'm a special and unique little snowflake, but I don't mean for it to be.  In fact, the same lesson goes for me in regards to others.  As empathetic as I think I am, as compassionate and understanding as I try to be, as loyal as a friend I hope I am, I still can't fully be there for someone.  We are all alone in the darkness.

 Now, before this bummer of a blog turns into this:

"I am utterly alone..."

(Did you just laugh at that? I hope you did.)

Before this bummer of a blog post makes everyone feel like jumping off the Winter River Bridge, let me offer the hope portion of this post, if you have been struggling with loneliness like me.

There is One who understands completely what it's like to be rejected, to be misunderstood, to be betrayed, to be alone. When He needed His friends the most, they fell asleep on Him, then ran away and denied they even knew Him.  He had people tell lies and talk smack and conspire against Him, and even His own family didn't support Him.  There is no one on earth that can understand everything you are going through, but there is One in heaven who does.  And I think my recent feelings of alienation have actually been a blessing in disguise, as it has caused me to draw closer to Him - the One who not only has "been there, done that" and can sympathize, but can also see into my heart in a way no human can, and offer solutions to my pain.  He's there for you too.  All you have to do is seek Him.   He is the light in the darkness.  We are not alone.


Laura said...

When I was in my 20's I went to a funeral at my church for a college student who had committed suicide, supposedly due to a romantic breakup. The preacher who delivered the eulogy talked about not judging what would bring someone else to end their life because no one can know how another person is feeling about any situation. While I certainly disagree with taking such measures, it was a poignant message that I have never forgotten.

What a comfort to know God sent Jesus to earth to know what we experience. His love overwhelms me.

Stephany said...

Divina, I too share in this loneliness. See we are not alone! As I walk with Tom through this illness, there are many times that I just want to talk to someone. Someone who will listen and not get angry with me and make me feel selfish about my ranting, pity pot. I do not have biological brothers or sisters, my parents are both gone. For most of the time I feel that there are no friends to hear me. But Jesus listens and helps me with his written word. My Jesus loves me for who I am and accepts me where I am at. Does He want more of me? Yes, and I work everyday to give him more and share his love with others. Thank you for sharing your written thoughts.

D.L. White said...

Laura - What a perceptive preacher! And how good of you to have taken that message to heart and never forgotten it.

And I agree - I'm overwhelmed by thinking about a God that has feelings and knows emotions. Not only did he make us that way, but he experienced human feelings/emotions by taking on human form here. Overwhelming indeed.

D.L. White said...

Stephany - Thank you for your honest words. You are always such an encouragement to me. I'm glad to have you walking along with me. :-) (You too Laura!)