The Quieter Consequence of Coronavirus: The Loneliness Epidemic
Quiet but devastating
The symphony of shrill sounds pierces the still silence of my room.
Meep, meep, meep. My hand shoots outward, in a desperate grope to locate the object of unwelcome disturbance. The sound is incessant.
Finally, I hit the snooze button, and relax back onto my pillow. Eyes narrowly open, I stare at the dust particles illuminated by the rays of sunlight drifting lazily underneath my window. I stare at absolutely nothing.
I feel a slight shift in the bed, interrupting my absentminded trance. I turn over and expect to see my wife, sleeping belligerently through the morning disturbances of alarm clocks and beeping garbage trucks. But there is no one. I am alone.
“That’s right,” I remember. I was the one who belligerently slept through this morning’s noises. With a grunt, I lift my torso out of bed and pad over to the closet, where I pull on a shirt, jogging pants, and sneakers. And with the usual lethargy of Monday mornings, I head out for a quick run. Up and down hills, around bends, and underneath picturesque tunnels of trees; the route is familiar to me. So is the behavior of avoidance.
I see almost a dozen runners, bikers, and neighbors enjoying their mid-morning strolls, and every one of them I avoid. With a smile, wave, or “Good morning!”, I successfully remain 12 feet away from everyone. Don’t get too close. Don’t bring the sickness home. I do my part.
When I get home, I shower, fix myself a bowl of cereal, and settle into my office desk chair. I work until lunch, and then I work some more. My life is confined to the constraints of work and the four isolating outer walls of my home.
The only reprieve comes when my wife’s car pulls into the driveway. After a long shift in the hospital and a cumbersome day at home, we eat dinner, we talk, and we unwind. But it’s not the same. It’s just not the same.
To some degree, we all know this feeling: loneliness. Although, what is loneliness, really?
Interestingly, this feeling of loneliness is quite a modern emotion. Before the 18th century, there was no mention of loneliness in any medical literature, only the concept of oneliness — of being physically alone. Modern theories about loneliness suggest an evolutionary purpose, with loneliness serving as a chemical signal to the brain that its environment is unlikely to encounter social behaviors conducive to evolutionary fitness, or in other words, survival.
In laments terms, loneliness triggers the brain to find a new environment, because the environment in which it resides contains few organisms interested in mutual benefit or capable of altruism, the behavior of an animal that benefits another at its own expense.
This points to the idea that loneliness is more closely related to relationships of poor quality rather than quantity. Each of us is capable of living relatively solitary lives and not feel lonely, and conversely, living a rich social life and feel lonely nevertheless.
What does this tell us about our society right now, then? Perhaps there is an increase in loneliness because to feel alone is more than just being alone physically. To feel alone is to be alone both physically and abstractly.
Of course, being physically alone can most certainly enhance one’s feelings of loneliness. After all, loneliness is simply defined as “sorrow over aloneness,” and one can’t feel sorrow over aloneness if one is not even alone.
However, sometimes one can feel alone in more than just the physical sense. Without proper connection and feeling of belonging, the distressing feeling that one’s social needs are not being met by the quantity or quality of relationships can be overwhelming. In the abstract sense, one can be alone if one feels that no one is there to truly support them.
Granted, this pandemic has brought about immense suffering of tangible concern. But not forget those who are also suffering from the intangible.
For all those who feel alone out there, first, address the perception that you are abstractly alone. This is how we survive quarantine, and beyond. Now more than ever is the time to consciously and effortfully nurture relationships. Spend quality time with friends over Zoom by broaching deeper topics than how the lawnmower broke that afternoon. Go on a walk with spouses instead of individually staring at screens. Consistently check in with loved ones so that you can demonstrate your dependability. Don’t just coexist with others in this world. Invest your time, and you will reap the benefits of a healthy relationship.
For those who can reflect on their relationships with satisfaction and yet still feel lonely, take comfort in the words of Richard Matheson’s words from I Am Legend, “The keynote of minority prejudice is this: They are loathed because they are feared.” To feel alone, to feel on the outside is the consequence of not being able to conform, adhere to social etiquette, and be relatable or… normal. But there is no shame in being unique and to be feared is a compliment in itself. There are other people with you on the outside. When you finally find those people — and you will — you will find peace.
Inspired by I Am Legend by Richard Matheson
