The Unspoken Truth About Loneliness

Loneliness: While defined in dictionaries, it often means far more than simply lacking company. The friends and family we expected to support us through life's trials and tribulations vanished when our conditions forced us to change.

Contemplating this, I think the problem is an insufficient connection. Let me be clear: I cherish my wife and children. Without them, I'd be lost. They mean the world to me; their presence helps me face even my toughest days.

However, they do not, and thankfully cannot, understand my struggles. So, although I am grateful to have these amazing and supportive humans in my life, they cannot meet my need for connection in this context.

The Nature of Loneliness

My circle has shrunk–being honest with you, there isn't even a circle anymore. Some of this began once I became a parent, way before my conditions were apparent. Some stemmed from personal decisions because of illness and stress reduction; others did not. My best friend and the best man at my wedding started distancing themselves from me, blanking my wife and me in the street, and ghosted me, for reasons only known to them. I am at peace with this now, although it took some time, but who needs people like that around them, anyway?

So, I guess, I am lonely in the dictionary sense too, but being honest, I like my space and solitude, as people grate on me. Stressors had to go because my body can no longer deal with them in a way that is good for anyone, especially me.

Struggles with Connection

I believe my chronic loneliness stems from a lack of connection, but unlike typical relationships, I don't mean connection through love or similar emotions. I mean, connected via our shared experiences, connected by a deeper understanding of what we may go through.

A connection where you don’t need to help someone to understand by using analogies or metaphors. I long for connection with people who understand me. Yes, we're all unique, and no two diseases are identical, but I require individuals who truly understand.

Loneliness presents significant challenges. I feel like I am at a pivotal point in my mental health, and this worries me. I have always been able to keep my mind in check, but I face a prospect where I feel like I am slowly losing this ability, with it slipping through my fingers, losing my grip as each day passes.

Despite the deep love of those around me, their proposed solutions seem simplistic. “Go out and meet your people.” “Go to a men's mental health support group.” “Visit the local MS centre (they also deal with other neurological conditions now),” but for me, it isn’t this simple.

My diagnostic journey, the constant battle to be believed, and the constant need to advocate for even the most basic of things, let alone my actual diagnosis, has torn me apart. It has taken everything–the ambition, goals, my ability to do meaningful work, or even start my business again–my vision of the future. The list goes on.

It has taken everything, chewed it up, and spat it out. On my better days, I'm grateful I'm still alive, as many of the conditions doctors investigated me for would have killed me or shortened my life. I am always grateful to still have my little family, but this also feeds into the narrative I have that I don’t do enough, or I am not good enough, or that they deserve better. I often feel like I have stolen my wife's dreams and made myself inadequate as a father.

The point I am trying to make, albeit poorly, is that I have had the life sucked out of me–I have zero self-esteem or confidence and, to be completely honest, the thought of doing some things I could do to resolve or at least help with the loneliness and isolation scares the heck out of me.

I am certain that many of you reading this post will know what I mean, and please share your experiences. How did you move past this? Perhaps you are in the same place. Add to the discussion in the comments below.