The other night I was scrolling Tik Tok and came across a video from a woman named Isabella Dorta. My for you page is quite random, so I never know what to expect with each video. What I saw was a brilliant, and yet piercing monologue that opened up the heart of something I try to bury. She starts:   

“My name is Isabell Dorta. I am 21 years old. I live on an abandoned farm in the middle of absolutely nowhere with 3 kittens and 52 houseplants. I have a mom who is my best friend in the whole entire world, and a brother who is well…my brother. I have a few friends I adore, and… I am lonely.”

It’s hard to convey how powerful the video is just by her words. It was her voice, her facial expression, her raw emotions. It was the fact that without even getting to the end I knew exactly what she was going to say. I am lonely. I was shaken up. Not because this was something I suddenly realized described me. Rather that I could connect with her words in a way I never thought possible. It’s almost as if they looked directly at me and called me out. It was frightening. I didn’t think those three words could ever hold so much power. I can only write when I am inspired, or have that need to alleviate the chaos in my brain. This is the product of both. I do not expect this post to be as powerful as Isabella’s words, but maybe my words can resonate with at least one person. I am lonely. Perhaps you are too. 

Loneliness not in the literal sense. The loneliness that is eye-swelling and heart-aching. It’s the emptiness of coming home on a Friday, looking at your kittens, and knowing it’s just the three of you till Monday. It’s so routine that you develop the ability to become numb to it. You are numb to something that nearly killed you. The thought of fighting it is so uncomfortable it reinforces the behavior. Loneliness is sinister, and I am lonely. If you’ve read some of my posts you might know a bit about how I ended up here. For those who haven’t, the short version is: I transferred schools just before the pandemic hit. Then in attempts to get sober I moved all over the country. In short, no stability. I missed out on the social life of college and never really found my footing after that. Throughout all of this I learned to cope with distractions or by lying to myself. The latter being the most cruel. Me vs. me is a battle I will never win.

I’ve actually always preferred being alone. As a kid I would be so excited to go to sleepovers only to be worn out 2 hours in. I am simply comfortable in solitude. It’s where I am the safest. But I’ve learned to manipulate the brittle boundary that is isolation vs. solitude. Now they are one in the same. The thing that provided me the most comfort has transformed into my own personal Michael Myers. Always lurking somewhere close, yet he seems to be in no rush. He knows I am vulnerable. I can fight back, but he knows I am not strong enough to take him head on.

I am not ashamed to admit I am lonely. A lot of this is circumstantial and was out of my control. However it would be a massive lie to tell you I have made consistent efforts to change things. I have tried, though. I’ve joined clubs and sports teams. I tried yoga and book clubs. I even routinely showed up at the Taylor Swift themed SoulCycle class on Friday evenings. But with each commitment comes the same exhausting mental battle. I want to stay, but I should go; which one to pick? This question becomes so exhausting that no real decision is made. I just pretend the question was never there to begin with. So now at 25 I keep joking with my therapist that I am destined to die as a crazy cat dad. I don’t have friends but I’ve come to the conclusion that I will be fine. It’s not like I have a history of melting down and blowing up my life or anything. It’s ok though, right? After all, I am totally fine by myself.

I have always felt this way, even surrounded by my closest friends. To no fault of their own, I just always have had the desire to hide. It was tough to verbalize this as a child. When surrounded by people for long periods of time I would get really moody and I didn’t know why. I eventually learned the skill of vocalizing my need to be alone and recharge my social battery. But Stockholm Syndrome has ruined any healthy relationship I could have with this battery. I believe its lies. It just needs more time. I am its servant and only somebody else can set me free, or so I tell myself. 

The irony in all this is I am not at all unhappy. I enjoy my life and am generally positive and motivated each day. Unfortunately this thing called loneliness is like an unpaid gambling debt. You keep ignoring it hoping it magically goes away. It never does. In fact it comes back forcefully and abruptly. It can be a simple mosquito bite, or an undying parasite. You never really know. So what is the cure? Dorta and I both believe it is love. Not just in the romantic form, but also the love you can have for your friends. The love you experience with family. The love only you and one another person can understand. It is love through connection. I am grateful to have experienced many forms of love, but love is about reciprocity. You get what you give. I have much to give and lots to keep. I fear I will lose it all so it stays with me at all times. To end the video Isabella repeats her opening monologue. Just before that she says the most beautiful and haunting words I have heard in a long time:

“I’m devastated at the idea of not having a person to love. I have so much of myself to pour into someone I’m begging to do so. I know a person shouldn’t be your only source of happiness, but the absence of someone seems to be my only reason for unhappiness…”

Only I can put myself in a position to get out of this hole I have dug. The first step is the hardest and I am still deciding on what shoes to wear. Maybe I’ll have my cat pick for me.  

My name is Mo. I have two kittens and four stuffed animals. My best friends are all over the world, and my family is across the country. I am lonely.

It is OK if you are too.

The link to the Tik Tok is below:

I Am Lonely