fabiochiu/medium-articles huggingface dataset:
Gray clouds race across the sky, blown by the north-westerly winds, as Grandpa looks out the window.
By: Don Feazelle
Tags: Light, Hope, Loneliness, Short Form, Christmas

Too many sit in gray darkness, longing for loved ones who passed this year in the fight for their life. Like the damp wind penetrating the bone, loneliness overwhelms those souls isolated in their homes to protect them from this infectious and deadly disease.

The embers spring to flame, then into a bright and shining glow rising from his heart.

Today is a special day—a day of glad tidings, of hope, and light. A day to lift longing spirits by the hand of kindness out of the darkness and into the light.

You say I am not a celebrator of this tradition. Many whose spiritual journey has taken them on other paths recognize the spirit and intention of this day.

A glow of anticipation rises with visions of children’s laughter and excitement. Today Grandpa will see the momentary joy on the faces of five younglings from ages fifteen to two. He has already tasted this dish once with three other younglings the Saturday before.

Grammy scurries around in final preparation. She picks up a piece of ribbon here and wrapping paper rolls there. Puts away the tape, scissors, and utensils.

After coffee and Christmas Morn Casserole, we will embark on traditional festive activity and taste the hope and joy we all long for. Merry Christmas and blessings to all.
LONELINESS IS BETTER THAN FAKE COMPANY
By: Umama Qureshi
Tags: Loneliness, Lonelinesspartner

Do you think loneliness is the basis of anxiety and depression? Yes, it is. Loneliness makes a person vulnerable to sorrow and unhappiness. It makes a person feel alone, unwanted, and empty. But sometimes, the opposite can be worse. Being with someone whose vibes don’t match with yours or whose intellect is way below yours can be such a threat to your grooming.

“Solitude is better than having a company of fake friends,” says Piyush Bora.

IN WHAT WAYS FAKE PEOPLE ARE TOXIC?

Fake people are toxic to your mental health, behavior, and personality. Such people are just selfish and never care for your peace. No matter it is a friend or a partner, if the person is threatening your self-confidence or proving himself virulent to your existence, you should never compromise with such an unhealthy relationship.

Here are some of the reasons why fake people are the bad company to keep.

1. Fake people are seductive:

Such people have always an enticing personality. They have a superficial nature and people are tempted by their ostensible talks. They don’t care about you. You should be aware of such characters around you. The point is if you are courageous enough to be away from such bad company you know better where you stand emotionally.

Charles F.Glassman said wisely,” I prefer to surround myself with people who reveal their imperfections, rather than people who fake their perfections.”

2. Fake people are a distraction:

If you are truly committed to your goals, you will never want a mean person in your life. These people are just a wastage of time. Keep yourself at a distance and follow your personal goals and dreams. Invest in yourself, do whatever makes you happy. Prioritize your happiness and put all fake relationships aside.

A relationship coach Lisa Schmidt says, “Nothing is sexier than a person who can handle their life.”

3. Fake people are demeaning:

They are never intended to do good for you. Prefer being alone over such so-called friends/partners. Never depend on them and mind that independence and confidence are developed on your own.

HOW TO MAKE YOUR SOLITUDE PROFITABLE?

You can do several productive things to make your loneliness profitable. Do whatever makes you feel good. Ignore any negativity from approaching you. Here are some ideas which may help you in choosing a work to do.

· Wake up early and do YOGA.

· Do skincare.

· Eat healthy food.

· Go outside, explore the world.

· Explore nature and its aspects.

· Read your favorite book.

· Bake a cake or cook something for yourself.

· Do gardening.

· Dance like a Barbie doll.

· Join the gym.
Teens, money and sex
By: Gelson Lii
Tags: Suicide, Historia, History, Loneliness, Depression

The adolescent phase is the hardest that a human being can go through, because he does not know himself, he lives lives that other adolescents want him to be. I was there, you were there and some of you are still there. It is stressful to be in a environment that you do not want to be in, just to feel included, afraid of being taken care of, lonely, hanging out with people you don’t want to be with, spending money on people you don’t know, sleeping with a girl / just so you don’t feel like the virgin of the group.

Most of the time it seems like the world turns its back on you. You strike back by snapping anywhere you can. Especially in the wrong places, just trying to survive the pressure. This happens for both genders and much more for girls. You boy feeling pressured by friends to consume alcoholic beverages, drugs, getting involved in parties, prostitutes just to enter the “Vibe”.

You girl saw you try so hard to get everyone’s attention both at school, on the street, Facebook, Instagran showing your body to win reactions from Adorers and Likes, compliments from False and hypocritical Friendships, compliments from those who just want to sleep with you thinking it’s love.

You never realize how bad things can end because of those special lifestyles. You invite perverts into your life. You place your dignity in the eyes of the community only in the teenage years.

You walk in the busiest places in the city. You are involved with the “sugar daddies”. They give you an amount of money that your own parents never give you. In exchange for sexual pleasure.

You think it’s life. You lose respect for yourself. You are always ready for sex but you are only 15,16,17,18 years old.

ALONE

One thing leads to another. You find yourself pregnant, alone, sick and vulnerable to complications, sometimes wanting to commit suicide, due to Depression.

Now it becomes clear that no one has ever really cared about you. Fake friends turning their backs on you, Adult boyfriends turning to the next teenagers. All because of money, sex and fast living. Your life ends anyway … even before you turn 20, before making your dreams come true.

This is not the kind of life you wanted. All you ever wanted was to be recognized as the rest, to be loved like the rest, to be admired by other teenagers, but unfortunately it ended badly.

Now you ask yourself. AM I GUILTY OF THIS?

Answer: You are to blame, yes. We all have responsibilities for our actions, our disobedience to parents, our pride in accepting that we are weak, our inability to look out for others.

MORE…

It is not the end … es a young person full of life ahead this is just a phase where we all passed and many passed, not everyone has a mentor who helps you in advice, but I am always here for you. Leave a message.

If this article helped you, just send it to your best friend, share it with her only

Editor- Gelson Lii

Author- Gelson Lii

Date.24 December 2020
I’ve Had Lonelier Christmases Than This One
By: Michelle Jaqua
Tags: Relationships, 365 Days Of Writing, Holidays, Loneliness, Christmas

This would be a younger, sassier me. Photo by Ira Ostafiichuk on Unsplash

Today I’m sitting alone in my house, without friends or family around.

I was supposed to work at the hospital today, a shift I purposely took because my husband got scheduled to work today too. The plan was that we work together in the hospital, have some lunch together, and blow kisses secretly to each other when we passed in the corridors.

However, I did a dumb thing a couple days ago; when I was wrapping presents a couple of days ago, I poked myself in the eye and gave myself a pretty nasty scratch on my eyeball. The abrasion is so bad, I had to visit urgent care to get some antibiotic ointment. Now it’s swollen shut and painful. I can’t see, so I can’t drive and I can’t work. I can barely get around the house.

You’d think that with this turn of events, I’d be sad and lonely, spending my Christmas at home, by myself, looking at the gifts under the Christmas tree and waiting for another day that isn’t today.

I may be sitting here alone in my kitchen, but I’m not lonely. I know lonely Christmases and this isn’t one of them.

My lonely Christmases were when I was when I was married to the wrong man who was very good at making me feel like I was shit.

My lonely Christmases were when my ex lured the kids away to extravagant places because he was the “fun dad” and he knew it killed me when I couldn’t have my kids around for the holidays

My lonely Christmases were when I drank until I passed out because being unconscious was the only time I didn’t cry from the emotional pain.

No, this is not a lonely Christmas for me. I did a lot of work to change my life. I made strides to stop experiencing those painful relationships. I met a man who’s shown me he loves me every day since the day I met him five years ago. He proposed to me in front of our Christmas tree three years ago. Now I have a husband who loves me, and I’m not lonely because I know he feels the same way.

I also met new friends since that previous life of mine. Friends that are kind and generous and show me love. They make me feel like I am a superhero, even though I’m just a person who is grateful to have such wonderful people in my life.

My husband creates a safe space for me to be myself, without judgment or criticism. I don’t have to pretend I’m happy. I am happy and have everything I need, and so being alone on this Christmas is okay, because I know that although I can’t be with anyone I love today, I know I’m loved and with that, I’m never lonely.

Merry Christmas, and may you have all the riches of your friends and family, whether they are with you in person, virtually, or in spirit.
Warm Tea
By: Maziar Ghaderi
Tags: Jazz, Tea, Night, Insomnia, Loneliness

Warm Tea

Photo by Megan te Boekhorst on Unsplash

A dream I’d rather forget

led me to a kettle

that pours hot and clear

in the dead of a cold night

Warm tea feeds the need

to speak low and calm

to the dark parts near

that radiate through

a soft, cool jazz

an indifferent kind that doesn’t need you

but feels you here

The night’s shadows

hold murmurs of old attics still

of warm full houses I’ve never been in

and never will.
This will be played on the stereo above, in the art deco cafe
By: Alessandra Powell
Tags: Travel, Poetry, Loneliness, Humanity

And the sun felt soft, like a caress as she turned to walk over the bridge and

back into the maze that is Venice. She felt, finally, free.

There was little more to say, that day. In reality, there would be much, but when evening came that was all that mattered.

Fai come vuoi, tutto gia non va bene, dunque fai come vuoi.

When she saw a small path, the smallest of them, with a young boy kicking a football — theft by finding — she thought

that’s all this really is, and always has been, sheer theft by finding

this art form called writing, but also this art form called life.

One time, in an airport, a man stopped her and said — you write much, few do that often. It is good, I did that once.

These words have lingered with me, echoing, rippling above the sweep-aways of time.

He was doing more than merely observing — a frankly random human in the airport

He was saying something very true, that we were connected, we indulged and we ate the same food, the same wine

He, too, was human

And she, too, was human

and they both sought refuge in this fountain of a pen, the craziness of reflection only deemed acceptable by the puzzle that is this world.

It was unclear to her why the rest of the world did not pack their bags and pursue life.

She sat, as if awaiting, but repeated “as if” to herself, and knew that in a moment —

there would be no more waiting to be alone.

This will be played on the stereo above in the art deco cafe.
A lullaby
Tags: Poem, Acceptance, Sadness, Loneliness, Poetry

Sadness old pal, welcome home again

Leave your shoes by the door

Your room is left as was

Your sheets clean, towels steamed

Come in and unpack, you’ll be here a while

Take a shower, relax

Stretch your arms and find

Your favorite books by the bedside

Are you settled in

Come on now, don't be shy

You’re in familiar territory

Your stay is free, comfort supreme

Cozy dinner awaits, steamy coffee to taste

Bored now are you?

Just step out the door

Anxiety, insecurity, insomnia

They are here too,

All your friends

Just like the good old times

Comeon now, lets have a party

A party inside my head
The Encounter (Draft 1):
By: More Drafts To Go
Tags: Short Read, Compassion, Short Story, Homeless, Loneliness

An unlikely moment of compassion…

Image copyright: Satyavani Pippalla Akula

It was getting dark. The sun was setting. The sky was displaying dramatic spurts of merrier and brighter reds and pinks. Quite in contrast to the sky, dark grey clouds of pain, confusion and sorrow were rising from my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was embarrassed. I realized I was on a busy street. How could I cry here? What if someone I knew saw me? I looked up. The city was bustling with activity. No one seemed to notice me. Just then I heard a “Hi “. My voice was choked so I forced a smile and waved back. That person had walked past without waiting for my response. “Was it my tears or was he just lost in his own world?” “I better find a quieter place”. I moved away from the crowds.

There was a quiet spot with a bench next to a large tree. The big branches shielded me from the busy road. A big electrical outlet covered the window of the adjacent building. Amidst this sanctity I plopped myself. My sorrow was overwhelming. It had welled up like a dam after a storm. My floodgates opened. I gave myself permission to cry. I burst into tears. Sobbing my heart out. And then I heard it. The slow trickle first. I paused. Uncontrollable tears were trickling down but my voice was hushed. Was someone around? There was silence. And then I heard it again. This time there was no mistaking. It was gushing of water, like a sudden opening of the tap. What was that? I stopped crying. The sound stopped for a few seconds and then it happened again. like a controlled body of water, tricking out in spurts. Water that couldn’t be contained and then suddenly the gushing sound became louder, like it just had to rush out. As the suspicion hit me, the smell rafted. How dare someone? I stood up in disgust. There he was. On the other side of the electrical outlet, dirty, beaten up, in clothes so torn that the multiple layers couldn’t hide his skin. He seemed just as shaken. His pants were hastily pulled up Our eyes locked.

He quickly looked away. Shame poured out of his eyes. I felt sorry. Did I violate his privacy? Poor man. Relieving himself on the street. Was he homeless? Did he have to do this every day? In that split second tornado of thoughts, his eyes shifted back to me and my breath stopped. That gaze…gentle as my dad’s. Soft eyes of a kind man sensing the pain of another. My heart relaxed. In silence. We both stood there, for a moment oblivious to our surroundings…FEELING UNDERSTOOD.
A Tale of Two Christmases
Tags: Loneliness, Grief, Christmas

For some of us Christmas will always be different…

Photo credit: DAVIDSONLUNA on Unsplash

Today, as I walked through the graveyard in my hometown, I thought about how there are two types of Christmases that have always coexisted side by side, pandemic or no pandemic.

As I watched people tend to the graves of their loved ones I thought of my own loss. It is barely over a year since my mum died and in the intervening months since last Christmas and this, I have become attuned to the fact that there are in fact two universes; the universe in which all is in place and the one which is defined by the person, or people, who are missing.

For those of us occupying the latter universe, Christmas exists in duality. There is the joy of seeing out another year with those whom we love and have shared so much, there is the hope for brighter and better things to come in the New Year, but there is also absence. Inside the other universe, within the ‘other Christmas’, the very happening of Christmas itself brings back memories of times that can’t be recreated and people who we can’t bring back. Yet Christmas persists. So we divide ourselves, becoming part one world and part another; half grief and half merriment.

This Christmas is particularly curious in that there is an acknowledgement that Christmas is sometimes, and for some people, less about celebration than survival. It’s about saying I made it, I survived, I clung on through the darkness and here I am.

When we think back to the origins of Christmas, both as the celebration of the birth of Jesus the saviour, and further back in history, to the pagan tradition of a festival of light in the midwinter, Christmas has always had an element of endurance. In the middle of this unrelenting pandemic we feel this more than ever; the two Christmases coalesce. This year we are all grieving for a year that we haven’t had, a year in which death has permeated the collective consciousness, where even the most sociable among us have felt what it is to be lonely. Perhaps for the first time some people can truly appreciate what it is to spend Christmas alone and to feel the pain of separation from those who they love.

I hope that this Christmas makes us kinder and spreads, alongside joy and hope, understanding. For whatever you are missing out on this Christmas, do remember that for some of us there are always two Christmases.
In Our Corner
Tags: Loneliness, What If, Love

Photo by Alexander Popov on Unsplash

In our corner

At that place

We used to go

I sit here now

And sip alone

My red red wine

Memories both

Real and imagined

My companion

For the night

Has it been

Ten years

Or fifteen

Since the time

You told me

To wait for you

Has it been

Half my life

Or all of it

I’ve wanted

To be held

By you

I’m still here

Come

Meet me

In our corner

At that place

We used to go

A touch

A whisper

A laugh

A kiss

And lots

Of what ifs

Await
Will the UK starve this Christmas?
By: Dagmara Sajdak
Tags: Pandemic, Coronavirus, Loneliness, Christmas, Covid 19

In early September, a new coronavirus strain has been detected in the UK. It’s known to spread much more easily and has the ability to displace the previous variants of the virus. It’s believed that in less than a month from being detected, an estimated 25% of London cases consisted of this new variant. Another month went by and the number rose to around 60%.

While we are still unsure whether it’s more harmful than the original version of the virus, it’s believed that the new strain could be up to 70% more transmissible.

Photo by Kieran White on Unsplash

Naturally, the British authorities decided to increase restrictions in London as well as south-east parts of England as a result of the rapid spread of the new strain in these areas.

As the UK’s closest geographical neighbour, France was the first EU country to prohibit any freight service from the UK.

But that’s not all.

Very soon, Germany, Austria, Czech Republic, Poland, Italy, Netherlands, Belgium, Denmark, Switzerland, Bulgaria, and Lithuania also announced restrictions on UK travel, including transport, following the disclosure that the highly infectious new strain is widespread across south-east England, which includes Folkestone — the city one has to get through to reach the Eurotunnel.

The British statistics turned out to be worrying enough that countries located as far as America decided to react. Argentina and Chile suspended flights to and from Great Britain.

All this chaos — that could have been easily prevented if not for sleeping British authorities — greatly disrupted the transportation of goods, including food products. This, combined with the increased demand resulting from the combination of the pandemic, upcoming Brexit as well as Christmas time, is the recipe for a disaster.

According to the Secretary of State, Priti Patel, over 1500 trucks wound up stuck without the ability to get to their European destinations.

Allegedly, the issue didn’t lie in the prohibition of entrance to the UK, but rather the fact that comapnies didn’t want to risk the truck drivers being unable to leave and return to the EU on time.

According to Sky News, the situation is so bad, the government is afraid that some food products may run out in only two weeks as Andrew Opie, the BRC’s director of food and sustainability said any prolonged disruption would be a problem in the run-up to the end of the Brexit transition period on December 31.

On Monday, Britain’s prime minister, Boris Johnson held an emergency COBRA meeting (‘Cabinet Office Briefing Room A’ refers to the emergency council which is formed when a crisis arises) to prevent food shortages and discuss international travel between Great Britain and other European countries.
Surrendering to the Bittersweet
By: Mama Luscious
Tags: Loneliness, Poetry, Love, Christmas, Family

Surrendering to the Bittersweet

Photo Credit: Danny Castaneda via Unsplash

Do the holidays find you melancholy? Joyful? Yes? For me they are always a bittersweet affair.

A holiday with a family of two can sometimes feel very small.

My daughter is now 17. I have been her sole parent since she was 4. I don’t have a close, supportive family who are in our daily lives. We lost her father’s side of the equation to the unimaginable. We are an island. A lovely one. But an island.

I love our traditions we’ve crafted, the home we’ve made, and the hard-earned peace of my now. But. I would be lying if I didn’t tell you there aren’t melancholy moments. Ones where alone feels lonely rather than intentional. That moment when you compare your own world or idea of what your world should be against its reality, against others who have extended family gatherings, have their children’s parents present in some fashion. Those who look like our societally approved “normal” families.

Children don’t see the world this way. Or mine doesn’t anyway. My daughter isn’t looking at us and thinking of what’s lacking. She sees our home bedazzled in bliss, treats to bake, games to play, jammies to snuggle within, no school — all of it a treasure. She doesn’t compare our world to any other. For her, it’s enough. It’s a wonder to behold.

I can’t tell you how many times when I’ve grabbed her hand and said “Dynamic Duo” as a prayer, when she’s chimed back, “Small but mighty!” with fierce pride. Where when we dine out we’re asked, “Girls night out?” and she responds, “Every day of my life!” with gusto. She’s fiercely proud of us. Forget Christmas. It feels like the best gift I’ll ever receive each time it happens.

Comparisons are the death of happiness, perhaps. It made me remember Merrit Malloy’s Frames today.

“For a long time… I only saw things in comparison I only knew myself In relation to other people …And not in relation to who I am Or was… …Or why I only saw you In a line-up of men For me to consider …And choose But once I loved my family Without question… Without a frame or social ruler Without a measurement or accounting We lose a lot in judgments Mostly people… But especially ourselves… Love is out of context It has to be… It’s when we stop comparing That we love”

I hope this Christmas Eve finds you without a social ruler, grateful for your now, and loving life well just as it greets you.

Merry Christmas Eve, all.
Spending Christmas Alone
By: Joseph M. Learned
Tags: Alone, Loneliness, Christmas, Mental Health, Psychology

Mental health has been a personal battle of mine for the larger part of the last decade. My time has been filled with ups, downs, and everything in-between. Mental health is volatile, unstable, unpredictable. It is this way by its own nature. Seasons come. Seasons pass.

Despite the changes in our moods, one thing is particularly timely: the Holidays.

We don’t always have time to account for guests, nor do we necessarily have guests to invite, in the first place. Many of us don’t live in highly-populated areas. Having guaranteed guests outside of the immediate family is not promised.

The state of being alone has a preconceived negative notion. The reality of being alone, however, is inherently neutral.

Events do not bother us. We subconsciously decide whether to attribute positive or negative connotations to events. It is up to us whether we enjoy being alone.

Of course, it is important to note that previous events have a serious impact on our perception of particular events (most notably, Christmas). Christmas is considered by many to be a social holiday. We are heavily encouraged to spend time with friends and family.

But sometimes, this isn’t an option.

Allowing yourself to feel emotion is a perfectly healthy way to live. Allowing yourself to wallow is not.

Mental strength allows you to push through the natural (or sometimes, unnatural) emotions that you will feel throughout the course of your life. The best tool you possess is mindfulness.

When you start to feel alone and lonely, focus on the emotion. I know this sounds counter-intuitive, but by focusing on your emotion, letting yourself process the negativity, you are allowing yourself to move on.

Many times we get stuck in a negative rut because we are unable to move on from the emotions we are feeling. This is because our brain is wired to avoid any negativity. It does this purely for evolutionary reasons. The reality of the matter is that we must feel and process these emotions, in order to grow from them.

Feeling alone during the holidays is a perfectly natural experience. What is unnatural, is allowing ourselves to feel miserable. Being alone is not a negative experience. Being alone on the holidays frees your calendar (literally) and grants you ultimate freedom.

Do not obsess on your negative thoughts. Remember that your mind is very able and willing to lie to you, thus changing your perception of your life. Also, remember that you are in control. Remember that you are able to fight your own intrusive thoughts through meditation and mindfulness.

This is a battle you can, and will, win. All you have to do is fight.
dark days
By: Nupoor Raj
Tags: Creative Writing, Grief, Poetry On Medium, Loneliness, Poetry

dark days

Photo by Branimir Balogović on Unsplash

The dark days lurk

in fear

of being left alone

knowing well

it is unwelcomed

undesired…

the soul yearns

longing for freedom

from the gloomy dark days

and the darkness cries silently

out of compelling desertion…
Tipera 3: Self study
By: Gayathri Unnikrishnan
Tags: Loneliness, Self Love

Loneliness, may not come with a single feeling of being left alone with no-one in sight. You may perhaps find light losing its glisten, and the world outside turns an inaccessible land with even its silences subdued. You hear them chatters as whispers and the gloom that surrounds is inexplicable. The thinking brain seems to have taken company of thoughtless arguments, stuffing inside sorrow, as if you’d never before given your thought processes better freedom. It creates quarrels within, fills inside fear and leaves no room for mindful thinking.

And to help shove off the darkness, is something not everybody could stand with you for. In this ever busy world where people are held with personal assignments for every passing day, adapting yourself to left-alone situations and change is a primal must.

Loneliness, in some days, could give you such lessons in life, which years of human company may not.

They say, “Embrace the situations that come”, but if not embrace, give yourself some deeper push to confront them. Restrict yourself into thinking that it’s always been only you. Everybody else is here only to help you “shove” off certain foreseen darknesses.

The ones that remain, are yours to enliven.
Before I Go Away
By: Patrick M. Ohana
Tags: Muse, Adieu, Loneliness, Love, Death

Before I Go Away

Photo by Jonathan Queutois (CC0) via Wikimedia Commons

Before I go away from here

there and nearly everywhere

there are a few things left to say

to type to be precise

That I love you is already a given

but I’ll say it again

and will never stop feeling it

That I love trees is also fundamental

how could anyone not kiss

and protect them

That I love all life is more complicated

since I don’t love my own

or the life of those already gone

Dust to dust is a horror story

I prefer the dust I’ve received

from my muse on the Moon

It’s reddish in colour

and can be traced back

to a small path in Prague

It’s somewhat Kafkaesque

since it also tends to dissipate

as soon as I attempt to order its stance

The few things left to say are as follows

I love poets more than many writers

because poets rarely enumerate things

as listings of items to do or not to do

and real poets cannot preach anything

They describe what they see and feel

allowing the reader to decide

sometimes decipher

what could be meant or done

Shakespeare was the POET

and that should surely suffice

That I love women more than most men

many of you as much already suspect

I guess that I could love men as much

when they grow real breasts

and the meaning of life

I don’t hate loneliness

as long as I know that I’m loved

by someone somewhere

My muse loves me a lot

and for me it may be enough

I love most words

in several languages

mainly in English and French

but also Vulcan

I love the blue sky

everything blue really

I love the Sun more than the Moon

even if my muse resides on the latter

and she knows it too well

When I look at the stars

I thank them for her life

mine is not as important

When I ponder inside

both my mind and my pump

I find old memories

no longer familiar

having been all coloured

by her redness

her countenance

her wonderful words

her breasts

and all the rest of her treasured chest

I will not digress

I hereby bid you adieu

May life treat you as well

as you treat the pale blue dot

Here’s to you Carl Sagan

You’re one of those rare men

Over and out

Patrick M. Ohana
Christmas for One
By: Tia Wheeler
Tags: Grief, Loneliness, Christmas, Mental Health, Covid 19

Photo by Marissa Daeger on Unsplash

The year 2020 has been one for the books. We are still surviving a global pandemic along with social and political unrest. Many of us are struggling to manage the grief that accompanies this unprecedented time in history. The holiday season this year may seem quite lonely — be that because we lost someone dear to us, or perhaps we are unable to get to our loved ones due to travel restrictions or out of an abundance of caution and adherence to CDC guidelines.

Whatever your reason, if you are spending the holidays alone this year… please know that while there may be a tender spot in your chest, and the feeling of loneliness may at times seem that it is too much to bear… I see you, and I want to welcome you into my virtual family.

This holiday season, you are a cousin of mine. While we cannot physically be together, I still would love it if we could participate in some of our favorite traditions. For me, that means baking something sweet and decorating the tree. My granny used to decorate her home so beautifully for the holidays, and it is a tradition that my mom and I carry on to this day in her absence.

Cousin, what is it that you are doing in your home — in the absence of our loved ones, that helps you to feel close even though we are apart? If you are making baked macaroni and cheese, I definitely want to know about it! Don’t be stingy with the recipe! Are we singing Christmas carols? You know I’m going to be off-key, but that is part of the fun. What holiday movie are we watching? I know my favorite is The Grinch.

This year, I want to know ALL the details, and I don’t want you to leave anything out. If 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that if we don’t look out for each other, we won’t amount to much of anything. I sincerely look forward to hearing from you in the comments.

Grace & Peace,

Tia, LCSW
Aloneness
By: Mario Savioni
Tags: Changing Your Life, Happiness, Loneliness, Past Experiences, Catharsis

Image of Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA, by the author, who ran here alone.

“Art is a wound turned into light,” (Marina character in the movie The Postcard Killings).

Sometimes a mirror and reenforcement breaks the desire to remain. Seeing oneself through another’s eyes is often the only way to see. The Jo Hari Window concept talks about four panes of a window: How you see yourself, How the world sees you, How the world and you see yourself, and that which is unknown. The point is to get into a place, where you can see yourself as the world sees you, or to open yourself completely. Some of us cannot see how pathetic we might appear because we live alone and no one, who can see us is close enough to share their view. Unless we piss them off and they are vindictive, they may never say anything, just observe.

I understand this gloom. I am not broken by it. I work to change it because it is well-known. I read an article today (https://medium.com/hello-love/how-to-tell-if-a-woman-is-not-interested-in-you-9fdb7fc71d4a) about why women do not choose certain men, and a couple of reasons really resonated with me, mainly a negativity that I possess. I think we are all well-aware, my regurgitation should not be so damning. It is not so simple. I see where it started. I know its source. My father died when I was ten and as my therapist said, at that point I became “the emotional adult of the family.” There is a study, which put rats underwater, one almost to the point of death and its behavior thereafter was not one of thankfulness and happiness to be alive, but one, which always questioned life, saw it in terms of that powerlessness. Psychologically, thereafter the rat embodied near-death. I was hopeless and whipped. Other rats had less time underwater and were fine.

A person, like that, is drawn to the motions and potions of distress. They write in a maudlin tone and are always taking the negative perspective. A New Yorker editor once said, however, that we don’t want to read happiness, there’s no point in that, we like to immerse ourselves in grief and pain, stories and times that bring us to tears. There’s more substance in sadness.

Most literary works, if you haven’t noticed, are not joyous embraces, but toils within the quagmire of life. Elliot’s poem “The Wasteland” is one of my favorites. The lines and words carry me deeply. I don’t want to be cast afflight, I want to be close to the earth and her true course. You cannot learn to live, you can only learn to create art out of pain. Check out this new piece of mine: After the Rain.

I am constantly creating art of every kind and that initial sadness has kept me in my chair. If this gives you catharsis, which it does me, then that’s the point. Sadness and perhaps happiness are on a quest to find catharsis. I don’t think happy people feel it as closely as someone in pain.
Shoegaze Swan Song
Tags: Memory, Isolation, Music, Loneliness, Shoegaze

You were in my dream today and I woke up and started crying. In my dream we were in our last days together, and we were formulating excuses to see each other again. Last summer when you left the country I could not see you off because of lockdown and I could not cry over the phone because I was working at a factory. I remembered making you lie down on the rooftop with me to listen to Radiohead’s How to Disappear Completely, thinking that we would find communion in that wallow of indistinct emotion, that you would share those sensations which I had hitherto only experienced privately. I think you did. It’ll be at least a few years until I see you again.

You called me the other day to discuss a university essay you were working on about that time we went to Taiwan together to volunteer at an orphanage. Between reminiscence and poignant reflections I had never taken the time to earnestly have, was the silence of several months of disconnect, of waters of shared loneliness that had been parted by you leaving the country. Soon we filled that silence with art, as we seem to always do. You remarked that your favourite artists hadn’t released anything this year and I told you to listen to Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven. A few days later you called me out of nowhere and told me you had listened to it, along with In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, which you described as “folk Oasis”. I wish I could’ve called you for longer, but I was studying for my Structures exam.

This semester has split me in half. The part of you that has stayed here told me over lunch that pain is not the unit of effort, and it’s going to take me some time to learn that lesson. The pain I have had has not even been poetic. I did an entire bridge design project without knowing what my team members look like, for they never turned on their cameras. Two hours before the deadline one of them pointed out that I had made a grave error, and in a panic to correct that error along with its numerous repercussions, to convert PDF files that were far too large, to export documents that had not saved the last hour of my work, I felt alone as faceless voices on a Discord call asked me if I had fulfilled the responsibility I had so disproportionately apportioned for myself. I submitted the project thirty seconds before the deadline and screamed on the living room floor.
Can You Feel Lonely When You’re Around Other People?
By: Michael Malone
Tags: Self Improvement, Short Story, Sadness, Books, Loneliness

Short answer: Yes.

Longer Answer: Fuck yeah, dude!

The feeling of loneliness has very little to do with your surroundings and way more to do with connection. It is the lack of reciprocity that triggers loneliness.

I have been in a room filled with hundreds of people before and I have felt alone. It’s not their fault either. Sometimes, I have nothing to offer to the conversations. I end up in my head, battling anxious thoughts on an endless loop until I finally just shut everything off.

When everything goes silent, that’s when the loneliness shows up like a desperate, thrice-divorced father of two, buying me one last shot before the bar closes.

Of course, I’m going to go home with him. There’s nothing else to do. Loneliness is the only thing at this bar that wants to fuck me and I am so desperate for a connection that I will mistake it for love.
Christmas 2020
By: Regina Rodríguez-Martin
Tags: 2020, Coronavirus, Loneliness, Christmas, Depression

I hate this month like a dumped ex-lover who’s still completely in love

ID 60452853 © Photopassjonata Dreamstime.com

I hate this month.

I hate it like a dumped ex-lover who’s still completely in love

Like I hate desserts when I’m on a diet

Like I hate everyone who was invited to the party when I wasn’t.

I hate this month with its mock social calendar of virtual events

That I fake my way through (with background Zoom tree)

Smiling and laughing

Part of an online party when I’m really alone

And I can’t get that out of my head.

What I DO get out of my head as quickly possible is each day

Carefully scraping weeks and months out of my memory as I go

Through this year that has surpassed all the other years I believed were the worst.

I hope to remember nothing of 2020.

But as awful as this whole year has been I hate this month

Because December is my very favorite and contains all my favorite things

Except for now.

If I’m among those who live another year, I’ll celebrate next December

with all the friends I didn’t get to see

and all the food I didn’t get to eat

and all the decorations I didn’t have the heart to put up

and all the joy I don’t feel now,

If 2021 gives me that chance.
Men and the epidemic of Loneliness
By: Brett Ullman
Tags: Loneliness, Loneliness And Men

One area we must begin to talk about is men and the epidemic of loneliness. It is sad how many men approach me and talk about how lonely they feel in their lives. This is a topic we must begin to address both in the church and in the mainstream culture.
MIND THE GAP (a poem)
By: William F. Aicher
Tags: Poem, Humanity, Loneliness, Poetry, Love

Photo by Long Truong on Unsplash

On the inside

lies a world I call

my own.

On your inside

lies a truth

I will never know.

On the outside

lies all I will

never be.

On the outside

we wear our skin

as shells.

The space in between

infinity that holds

us apart.

What I see

is not you.

What you see

is not me.

And though we touch

we can never

be one.
Fate is like a small sandstorm….
By: Amit Kumar Gupta
Tags: Haruki Murakami, Loneliness, Luck

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
March 2020
By: Abhiram Iyer
Tags: Loneliness, Life, Covid 19

It was a cold winter’s evening in Cambridge with some frozen snow still on the footpaths. I stepped out for a casual walk for the first time since the lockdown, wearing a mask (which felt apocalyptic then, like I was teleported to Beijing or Delhi) and constantly cleaning my fogging glasses. Naturally, my instincts made me take the path that I usually took to get to the subway on my way to work. So as I walked the path, I felt it. The sense of hollowness because the cries and laughs of random strangers and pedestrians that was always there, was missing.

The path went through the Harvard Yard. A popular spot for tourists and their selfie sticks. There would groups of tourists raptly listening to the tour guide explain the history of everything (probably the guide even told a line or two about the trash can), students running to their next class and me rushing through it all to get there in time for the first meeting of the day. However that evening, there was a ghostly silence. The place was completely deserted.

The thing about cities is, in the absence of a community it is mostly a lonely place. The noise — the cries, the laughter and the constant presence of people, does a great job of hiding it. You shut the noise and you get solitude. You shut it too much and there is loneliness. That day, walking through the desolate yard, loneliness was palpable.

I took a couple of loops of the yard that evening and on the way back home I stopped by a coffee shop that was still open. I walked in and ordered some coffee to go. It was getting a lot colder and I needed something hot. Thankfully, the order was ready in a minute. I grabbed it and stepped out. However, as I had my first sip I realised it was missing sugar.

It was missing sugar just like everything else.
The Loneliness that Comes with Covid-19
Tags: Corona, Loneliness, Isolation, Covid 19

The Loneliness that Comes with Covid-19

i wish i could say that covid-19 hasn’t broken me down. i wish i could say i’ve stayed resilient, fighting in silence for my own health. i wish i could say that every morning i woke up and showed up for myself. i wish it was that easy.

it’s been longer than a month since i was tested positive and the things that i went through has been one of the toughest ones in my life. from feeling entirely hopeless as i couldn’t help my family when we were all fighting the same battle, staying strong because someone had to, to eventually drained out all the energy i had left to fight for myself in isolation.

when someone says covid is a mental battle – i second that.

i have been diligent. i take my dozens of pills everyday, i eat just fine, i seek out the sun in the morning when i can. i show up to work virtually, i communicate with people on daily basis to keep me sane. i have tried my hardest. but there are costs in being strong, and one of them is that i have to be hopeful. hopeful enough to believe i will win the battle like a warrior everyone says i am.

unfortunately, when that win seems to be getting further away instead, it plays with my mind. some mornings i dont find the will to get out of bed. one morning i end up crying my eyes out.

im physically fine, i know that because i’ve been in a worse state. but the isolation and loneliness this journey has brought upon me weigh a lot. when you crumble in the middle of the night with no one to talk to, it eats you up slowly. and i know i can be stronger than this, i just dont know if i want to. i am just beyond tired of fighting.
Hear me Out
By: Latish Kumar
Tags: Life, Thoughts, Help, Loneliness, Depression

When I say I wanna talk, it means that you should be listening — not giving advice. I’m not a fucking child to go to mommy if I have a slight inconvenience in my life and cry over. I just want to flush away the pain I’ve been carrying for so long. You should only listen, not give a solution; understand, not judge; empathize, not sympathize. Can you do that? If you can, hear me out; I need you. Because I don’t know how much longer I can carry all this pain. I can’t bear it anymore. This society, the people, the world, can suck it. I don’t want to be a part of them anymore. I just want to be me. Why is that so difficult nowadays? Why is there a need to be accepted by everyone? Why can’t I be the judge of my own choices? When did everything become a joke? When did “that’s fine… everyone goes through the same thing, don’t worry” become a new trend?

My hands won’t stop trembling while writing this. I couldn’t see through my watery eyes. My neck wouldn’t support the weight of the thoughts anymore; I wish I could end this pain. Can I? Shall I? What is happening to me? When did I become a coward? Once a happy, charismatic, and lively boy, where did he go? Isn’t he there somewhere? Or did he get lost in all the hate that filled the heart? I know you feel bad for me now that you know how I feel. But where were you when needed? I was alone, fighting my own battles without a sword. How much longer do you expect me to be on that battlefield? Without help, I can’t move my feet, throw a punch, swing a sword, or live a life. Why does life make us live through what we don’t want?

Remember the time I was happy, me too. It is only a memory now. Misery clouded my head a long time ago, and hate and anger are my new best friends. Love is just a mythical lost treasure. A failed witch hunt for my feelings sent me deeper into this abyss. I fell in but never found the rock bottom. I don’t wanna get up anymore; I don’t want to try. Why am I the way I am? Why can’t I live like everyone else? Because I don’t want to. There isn’t a person alive who would give a jack shit about the things I say — even you. You will just read this, maybe feel sad and forget it all the same. But remember, there is always a friend in need, and they don’t ask for help like everyone else. They wish for you to be there. So, be there.