One Is The Loneliest Number

Lately I’ve been feeling disconnected from the people around me. I’ve been feeling alone and isolated. This is how I’ve spent most of my life. Even when there are people around me, I feel like there’s a barrier between myself and others. I can laugh and smile and engage in small talk but I never show who I really am. When I was younger and has less social experience, I found social interactions to be very confusing. I would watch what other people did and mimic them. I think the only place I was ever myself as a child was when it was just myself and my siblings. I would play with them and felt comfortable but otherwise I was always on guard, watching to make sure I didn’t say the wrong thing.

As a teenager, it was even worse. For most people, these are awkward years but they are years that most people figure out their values, how they think and what type of person they want to be. I’m not saying it’s done for people by the time their teenage years are over but there’s definitely a start to the process. I felt stunted during this time. It’s one of the few times in my life where I had friends but I never showed who I really was. I changed constantly from one friend to another. I was a chameleon, every changing to fit the situation. My personality was fluid for fear of rejection so that even if I didn’t agree with what my friends did/said, I would still do it. I don’t think this was because of peer pressure, I think I missed an important step in the developmental process that most people go through because of the years my abuse happened. I had no idea who I was or what I liked or didn’t. I had no idea how to disagree with someone and be confident in what I was saying.

I’ve been realizing lately how truly stunted I am. I’m an adult and I have little capacity to make and keep friendships. I am blessed to have an amazing husband. He is my best friend and with him, I can be almost who I truly am and have to worry less about rejection. I am lucky to not be totally alone but there is no one else. I have no girlfriend that I can complain to or shop with or have coffee with. There is no family member that I feel comfortable enough to tell them I’m having a hard time and why. Even with my husband, there’s a disconnect, I don’t quite click with him 100%. It’s always as if there’s a glass wall between myself and other people. I think that glass wall is made up of shame and secrets and insecurity. It prevents me from fully touching others and being embraced by them.  I am weird, separate, alone. To me, this is one of the worst things about trauma, the eternally feeling of loneliness. To never have anyone understand what I am going through and the level of depression and despair that I frequently fall to. I don’t think the English language has the right words to describe the agony of abuse and how it changes someone forever. Trauma is a life sentence of walking alone with your experiences, the rage, the humiliation, the shame, the fear, the depression. That is the gift that trauma gives us. I am alone and accepted that this is way my life will be. I accept that I am stunted, that I will never be in sync with people. I know I can adapt but it’s not the same as someone who has not had trauma. Sometimes I think that’s why I write this blog because I hope that someone will read it and feel less alone. I think loneliness is so corroding to our souls and minds. It’s like rust on a car, it breaks us down and we fall apart. So I hope, that even if just one person reads this and realizes that there’s someone out there like them, that me saying this is worth it.

2 thoughts on “One Is The Loneliest Number

  1. Thank you for this post. I feel exactly the same. You expressed what I’ve been feeling for so long in words. ❤️. I’m reading more now.

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  2. I don’t even know where to begin in leaving a reply. I have lost all my friends due to my symptoms of PTSD, they all ultimately at some point suffered from compassion fatigue and basically left. In 3 days it will be 6 mos. since my service dog died. I miss him like hell. He was all that I had. I am disconnected to my family, the abusers, and I’m isolated, alienated, alone and suffering from so many of my PTSD sx. None of the therapies, medications etc. have helped. I’m so desperate for help. And I’m so financially suffering. I can’t afford to buy food. I can just cover my expenses with my disability check–but I make too much for food stamps. I want to work but every time I try and do anything my symptoms get in the way. PTSD has hijacked my life and I want to get my life back but I don’t even know how to begin. Your post on loneliness really resonated with me.

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