Overcoming the Mental Scars of Isolation
When you’re finally out in the world, but your mind isn’t yet
Content warning — brief discussion of abuse.
When I came across Rosie Leizerowice’s This is What Loneliness Feels Like, It resonated with me instantly. I know what loneliness feels like. Only I hadn’t realised the extent of what it had done to me.
Some of this realisation came from a close friend. They handed me their phone and asked me what I thought of people they’d matched with on Tinder. For some reason, I could only recognise things that put me off these matches — I was looking for things to hate.
“50% of what comes out of your mouth is so negative, and it’s always about people you don’t know” they said offhandedly. I couldn’t argue. I knew they were right and it made me wonder why.
A few days later, we were talking about approaches to sexuality. I felt the need to clarify my approach, but for some reason, based it comparatively. What I do (and why it’s good) vs what some other people do (and why it’s not so good). I have no dislike of what makes others happy and comfortable, as long as it’s ethical.
“You can hold views without other people’s views being wrong” They retorted. I know that. I understand that. I live that — diversity of ideas is vital for innovation. So why did I make that baseless comparison, putting down the views of others to boost mine? These two weren’t isolated incidents. They’re bad habits that pop up now and then. Bad habits that needed to stop for my own quality of life.
These two slip-ups felt highly related. I just needed to connect them — maybe then it’d help me to tackle them simultaneously. I did what I tend to do in this situation, and I wrote in my journal:
- What is this habit that I don’t like?
- What in my life could have started this habit?
- What can I do to improve and move forward?
Then it all started to come together.
How I found loneliness
I went through a period of major demotivation between the ages of 15 and 18. I wasn’t the best student in this time, but the tendrils of this headspace extended into my social life. I didn’t understand how to be sociable anymore with the people I grew up friends with. I feel like I did once, but suddenly, I could no longer connect with them. Then again, I no longer had the energy to put the effort into people, so few put the effort into me.
When at school, I tried to engage with these people I once was friends with, but they’d changed. I was starting to become more aware of my queerness but still in the closet. Their jokes, once ton-deaf immature shock humour, became explicit statements of homophobia, xenophobia, and antisemitism.
I didn’t get a job for the most part because I didn’t want money, as I didn’t want to do anything with anyone. I made do with free and cheap hobbies, such as reading, writing, and I sunk way too much time into video gaming, eking out as much distraction as I could from a small collection of games. It wasn’t all through laziness though.
During this time, I was facing daily physical and verbal abuse from a family member, with the occasional sexual abuse for good measure. Because I had nobody to get out of the house with, instead I retreated into escapism, hoping to pass the time until the next school day.
My dismissal of things I dislike about others? Simple. I never was one for role models, but I grew up around so many people I disliked that I had plenty of anti-role models. These are people whose behaviour you wish to avoid so that you don’t end up like them. To be fair, it served me pretty well. The downside is again that it’s very negative.
Looking back, I could have turned out in one of two ways — rejecting of personal growth and casually offensive to anyone who wasn’t a straight, white, cis man, or overtly, outwardly queer in an effort to distance my mind and body from that of my youth and upbringing. The former would have probably trapped me in the same small city where most of my peers have stayed or returned to. The latter helped me move away, start afresh, and rebuild my life how I wanted and needed it to be.
The Impacts of Isolation
Being isolated from others puts a heavy strain on your mind and body. In fact, various metastudies have indicated that chronically lonely people die earlier on average than people of comparative demographics who have stronger social connections.
Part of the reason is you get ill more when you isolate yourself. The immune system is important in social animals — it protects the individual and by proxy can protect the ill and infirm. When we’re isolated for long periods, the body reduces the activity of the immune system, altering gene expression and white blood cell architecture in an effort to conserve energy and resources. Why burn that glucose if there’s nobody else around to make you sick? The cruel truth is that anything in your environment could make you sick, so you are. A lot.
Your mind is starved of positive affirmation when you’re isolated, and you start falling down a hole of cognitive dissonance. On the one hand, you’re rarely around others, so you develop gross, antisocial behaviours. On the other hand, you judge yourself because those behaviours are disgusting. However, you’re not going to see anyone anyway, so why change?
This is where the positive feedback loop of social anxiety kicks in. You struggle at first to talk to anyone, least of all those who look like they have their shit together. The anxiety stops you thinking clearly, which can cause you to not speak as clearly as you’d like. People don’t notice or think much of it, but you do. You overanalyse everything you think, say, and do.
The anticipation for social interaction leads to dread. You think it’s because people are going to judge you and dislike you. In reality, it’s because you know it’ll make you judge and hate yourself. If you don’t put in the work, this step can be the hurdle.
Trapped by Negativity
Breaking free of isolation doesn’t mean you immediately become more positive. I’d had a partner during my isolated period, and I let a lot of toxic behaviour slide because I felt like I deserved it. It made me miserable, yet I felt like I deserved it.
Fast forward a year. I was no longer isolated, but I still had a very low opinion of myself, not believing I was worth very much. My ‘rescue’ came in the form of a new relationship, which led me to believe I was worth more. The problem with this is that they too were very negative.
Connecting with someone over mutual enjoyment of an activity or subject matter can really boost you. You can encourage and boost each other, bouncing off each other’s enjoyment, and lift each other emotionally and intellectually. On the other hand, hate is emotional junk food. Hate is too easy. Over time, however, it drains you.
We connected over mutual hatred a lot. We became codependent over using each other as an emotional crutch. The problems began to show when they got bored of hearing my negativity but still loading their problems onto me. This was my longest relationship to date, and it ended with me emotionally drained with half a year to go before the end of my degree. It took moving to a new city and starting my social life from the ground up to find people who cared about me for who I am; relationships that became more energising the more energy I put in.
You yourself may be experiencing a period of negativity right now. Consider the people around you. How much do you listen to them complain only so you can get your opportunity? Do they ever compliment you? Do you admire something in them? Your negative moments are often your most vulnerable. Pay some attention to how often you leave conversations feeling worse than when you started.
It takes time. It took me 6 years and 4 cities after leaving my isolated state to be able to settle down and form a stable network of supportive friends. It is vital to cut out people who make your life a misery while investing in those who help you grow. Nothing is stopping you from dropping blood relations. Your genetic similarity doesn’t make them family — mutual love, care and support do. Sometimes, you just have to make your own family.
Pushing the Boulder
Taking techniques from cognitive behavioural therapy is an excellent approach. I may not be able to interrupt the thoughts as they come, but modifying my behaviour is an excellent way to remodel my subconscious.
The examples given in the introduction could easily be waved away if I’d intercepted those thoughts with “just different; not necessarily better or worse”. I know this in my conscious mind, of course. The lonely shut-in in my subconscious doesn’t though. I might not be able to stop myself saying these things every time, but as long as I recognise it after the occasion, I can start to recognise what frame of mind I’m in when I say these things. What specifically made me feel like I should negate others?
In time, with enough trial, error, and self-forgiveness, I will make the change. Breaking bad habits is never easy, and needs constant work. Acknowledge to yourself that it’s all part of the process. Remind yourself that the effort is worth it to become a better version of yourself.
