Thirsty for Connection

2020 has taught me a lot about myself. A lot that I haven’t necessarily enjoyed having to look at directly. One of the harder pills to swallow is a deep feeling of loneliness, which I don’t think is necessarily new but the current conditions have pushed me to experience it much more deeply.

I’m an Enneagram 4, The Individualist:

“While it is true that Fours often feel different from others, they do not really want to be alone. They may feel socially awkward or self-conscious, but they deeply wish to connect with people who understand them and their feelings.”

Ain’t that the truth.

I have this odd desire to be alone while simultaneously connected with others. I have so many feelings and thoughts bombarding me throughout the day, alone time feels necessary to process and stabilize. But I also deeply crave feeling known, understood, felt. And these two desire are often at odds with each other, creating an internal cocktail of chaos.

Since the onset of the Coronavirus, I’ve spent most of my days isolated with access to less than a handful of people. And during this time, unexpected feelings have arose, especially a sense of dependency on others.

I’m not delusional enough to believe I previously didn’t need others but it was easier to ignore the necessity of others when they were never truly lacking. People have always been abundant, even if simply strangers sharing a space or acquaintances offering fleeting interactions.

I’m currently spending my time cooped up at my sister’s place, spending 8 hours a day alone while she’s at work. And during that time, I experience a confusing combination of satisfaction and distress. Alone time is comfortable but also overwhelming.

I find myself craving the ability to share with people — not sharing a meal or experience but my self. To split myself open and reveal that which resides deepest inside me.

It’s not exactly an easy endeavor and most people don’t seem to want to go there. Or to be more accurate, they don’t have the time, energy, or means to.

I’ve become that person who responds quickly and almost instantaneously to messages and phone calls. I’ve become obnoxiously available. And I get this nagging sense that the more available I am, the less appealing I am.

I feel desperate, and in my desperation, I try to appear casual, light, undemanding.

This misalignment of internal and external existence only amplifies my distress. Because it does not allow me to feel seen, it does not touch on that desire to be felt.

And despite this deep desire for connection, I struggle to show up when the opportunity is presented. It’s like working towards something for months and when the moment arrives, you freeze, unable to remember why it is you wanted it in the first place.

I don’t know how to be good at being human. I don’t know how people keep their cool. I don’t know how to be anything but deeply ravenous for something that feels fewer and farther between.

I know there is community out there because I’ve experienced it. There are great examples of it from AA to church to intentional communities. But currently, my community is more a loosely connected map than a rich web.

I don’t know how to be anything but this. I have no solution. Reaching out can be uplifting or disappointing. And disappointment takes the wind out of me. I’ve lost friends in 2020, which has been a strange experience and totally counter to my intentions. I can’t help but question if it’s because of my own lacking, my inability to be worthy.

I feel more alone now than I’ve felt in years. I feel lost. I feel untethered to the world.

I write these words because they make it a little easier to breathe under the crippling anxiety that maybe I’m the problem. That there is something inherently wrong with me whether it’s not being appreciative, grateful, or likable enough.

Maybe I’m too selfish or self-absorbed. Maybe I’m not that interesting or funny. Maybe I’m simply not good enough.

I have so much love in my life for which I am graciously blessed. But love is not what I’m seeking. It’s connection. It’s the type of connection that provides a deep sigh of relief from life. And these have been hard to come by recently. And based on my experiences, they can’t be forced.

The loneliness grips my throat, ready to end it all. I become self-pitying and all the more unappealing in my desperation.

I’m so lonely that at night I lay in bed questioning how I got here, how to get out, how to cope, how to move on, how to fix it.

I question if I’m losing my social abilities. I question if I ever had them. I feel like I’ve regressed to my 7th grade self floundering to fit in and survive.

I am a mess. And all I want is to be seen. To be accepted. To be held.

Maybe I’m not doing this life thing right. Maybe I’m the problem. And if so, maybe I’m the solution.