Loneliness

"The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself."

A friend brought this quote attributed to Mark Twain to my attention several days ago. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

Part of it is I've known several people to whom this applies. I've watched them fear spending even a few hours alone with themselves. It's as if they fear some voice in their head won't be drowned out by the sounds of others. It isn't limited by gender or age.

They go to extremes to not be forced into listening to that internal sound. Quite often, I've seen it lead them to substance abuse. They seek out places where they know there will be other people, and in the time between being away from their jobs and being asleep, they've often targeted bars as their only reliable safe haven. And constantly being in the bar usually meant consuming the products. They're quite often the first ones there for happy hour. And they don't leave until they've passed the point of caring about whatever drove them there in the first place.

Sometimes those same people find the time of day to be a constraint. Weekends can be the worst for them because they find they can't spend a full 18 hours in a bar. They try movies to be around others and fill the blank spaces. But there are only so many movies a weekend one can absorb.

I find these same people don't know themselves very well. Maybe that's obvious because if you're afraid to face the screaming in your head, you never get to the normal conversation with yourself that leads to understanding.

It's possible that's exactly what they want, to be avoid the introduction to themselves. Because there always seems to be this hint they don't like themselves very well. It all becomes a recipe for a very sour life. Those who don't like themselves don't like to be alone. So they go to bars where the liquor helps them forget they don't like themselves. The two factors together make them drink to abuse. Which doesn't make themselves any better and still hasn't done a thing about the sound in their head.

Ah, but the thoughts haven't just been judgemental. Because Mr. Twain was glancing at me too.

It isn't that I don't like to be alone. Sometimes I crave it and force it. I right out disappear. And I've been told by some that I have an ability to be in a room filled with people and be alone. I can put up a shell that puts anyone around on the outside.

But I also seem addicted to others. Sooner or later, I need stimulus, contact, input and connection. Maybe I see too much of myself, don't like enough of it, and need to drown it out just like those I've observed. Maybe it's just a human condition, the pack mentality of the human being. Maybe I need reinforcement in that I'm alright and somebody does like me.

I try to make a balance. I insist I be alone and look myself in the eye so I can develop a comfort with myself. I call it facing my demons. If I see them and they're taking over, I try remediation. I just have to force myself to not just see the brightly colored weaknesses in me and look through to the greys that are the good parts. Then I need to count up the two categories and make sure the less vibrants outnumber the look-at-me factors.

Sometimes I'm lonely. Sometimes I'm uncomfortable with myself. But I have to consciously ensure I don't carry loneliness just because I don't like me. I have to fix me if that's true. And that's a better cure for loneliness than hiding in a bar with strangers.