Loneliness

Let me sum this whole article up in two words: LONELINESS SUCKS!!!

Now that I got that little formality out of the way, let me begin. Loneliness is something you may not want to wish on your best or worst enemy. It is NOT something you want in your life. You don't want to be bothered by tons of people, either, but you can at least whittle down a crowd to a more acceptable group. When you are alone, you need to come up with someone, but you can't get it done. It is impossible.

Believe it or not, we started this life alone. After all, we were born alone. We came across life's threshold by ourselves. The first activity we did after our first breath was to start screaming. We were scared. We were frightened. We were alone! We cried for Mommy to pick us up and cradle us. If we were lucky, that happened. If not, we still cried until some gentle soul picked us up. From then, we were attached to that person. In psychology, this is called imprinting, the need to follow and attach ourselves to the one who gave us our first act of love. Animals do it all the time. Science has experimented with monkeys using live monkeys as a control and stuffed monkey dolls as a variable. We share that one characteristic.

After that experience, when does loneliness come back for a visit? It starts off with school and the bullying. Yes, loneliness enjoys when your friends leave you one after another, for some other reason, decides to leave you and reduce your circle of friends. That is the weapon that loneliness uses on you. It is notorious for that tactic. One day, you have lots of friends. The next day, you are sitting in the cafeteria at a table for one. The "friends" who once sat with you or joked with you are now sitting at another table with other friends and they are all pointing at you like you are a freak of nature. You have just started your career in loneliness, buddy. Get used to it.

When I studied English and American Literature at St. John's University here in New York City, I came across the various works of Edgar Alan Poe. I found that in his poetry, he was quite fixated on not just death, but the loneliness that comes with it. In "The Raven," he asks the bird about Lenore whose body was decomposing in a cemetery somewhere. He knows that she is dead, but she died rather young. She also took her beauty with her to the next life. Meanwhile, he works to keep her memory alive. He wants to make sure that she is not forgotten wherever she is buried or entombed. In my daily dries, I have often passed cemeteries and thought, "I wonder how many Lenores there are in that cemetery." I am sure that there are many who were born and died before my lifespan, born and died during my lifespan and others who will be born and die after my lifespan.

I will not get that luxury. I can tell that when my day comes, I will be instantly forgotten. I am not talking about my friends who want to be there to send me off, but can't get here due to traffic and logistic problems. I am strictly talking about those who could be there, but choose to do other extremely important things like putting their trash out or attend a sports game or any other excuse they could use in place of "Oooops! I can't make it. Something really came up (or will come up)."

Lepers sort of had it a bit on the lucky side. That is NOT to say that they were lucky to have leprosy. No, that is not what I am saying. I am saying that they were lucky to not have to deal with loneliness after governments condemned them to quarantines. Here is the U. S. "Father Damien or Saint Damien of Molokai, SS.CC. or Saint Damien De Veuster (Dutch: Pater Damiaan or Heilige Damiaan van Molokai; January 3, 1840 – April 15, 1889)" spent the rest of his life helping lepers on the Hawaiian island of Kalaupapa until he contracted the same disease. The lepers, although they were dealing with the pain of the disease, did not have to be alone. They had others around them to share conversations and such even though they had to deal with the same disease. Based on my experience with loneliness, I can only imagine what they may have experienced in a society where people had distanced themselves from the physically afflicted. I am sure that people avoided them and/or mocked them. It must have been emotionally painful. I saw that with those who have contracted AIDS. No one wanted to be around them. Despite the increased knowledge that it can't be contracted by shaking hands with someone who has AIDS or hugging someone, people still avoided them. Now, we are fortunate enough to know much more than we did back then.

If you do not think that loneliness can be used as a weapon or even a punishment? Think of a prison. Yes, we put offenders in prison for their wrongs done in society. That is all fair and good. What happens to those who still misbehave behind bars. Most of the time, they are punished. How? They are placed in solitary confinement. That's right! They are isolated in a prison area of the same name. They spend 23 out of 24 hours there until a specified amount of time has passed. It must be bad because they were NOT given the full 24 hour period. Why not? It might drive the offender crazy.

That kind of brings that back to me. No, I am not a criminal. I am not a city or federal jail system. I am sort of free to go where I want to go, but I go and stay ALONE. I wake up alone. I go to sleep alone. Unless I go to work or church, I am alone. I can hear my thoughts. I can hear my brain as it struggles with loneliness. It is a punishment that I would not wish upon anyone including an enemy. I have friends. I keep a very small circle of friends. I was blessed with great friends. They do call me from time to time to see how I am doing, but I do not like bothering them. They are busy people. Two of them live in other states. I never like imposing on them. They are too valuable to me. So, I leave them alone.

I live in a crypt. It might as well be. It is my boyhood home. I live with the memories of deceased family members who have begun their departures into the afterlife rather recently. I feel their spirits from time to time. Unless I go to a deep sleep which is rather rare, I can see them and/or hear them speak to me. Sometimes, I pretend that they are sitting in their chairs watching TV with me. But I know that they are not there. Those are just memories and I am still alone.

Am I crazy? I will not say that I am not. I won't say that I am either. I do know that when I say a joke to myself, I laugh. I am my best comedy audience. I love the meals I prepare for myself. I like the way I dress. I only seem to impress myself. When I turn on a TV program or listen to my radio, I never have to hear the voice say, "Change the channel (or station) because I don't like it." I guess that I am my own best company.

As Dean Martin used to sing, "Welcome to my world...."