Solitude or Lonliness?

[Guest]

This essay is funny, but also rings true for me. I more often than not find solitude a luxury. I never answer my phone or the door unless I am expecting someone. I only like my own and the company of close friends. I like staying in my flat an entire weekend sometimes. Many of you know I am a depressive (clinically) so it can be tricky for my friends, and me, but aside from that I do love real solitude. You? - Perdita

Why choosing to be alone doesn't necessarily indicate suicidal tendencies - Bennett Beach, SF Chronicle, October 10, 2004

It has come to my attention that not many people like solitude.

My sisters do not enjoy their own company, nor anyone else's for that matter. It's a curious irony that people who can't stand being alone perceive others not as good company, but as a means to avoiding their own. One of my sisters actually followed me into the bathroom the last (and I do mean the last) time I visited her, where she continued her one-sided conversation. People who don't like to be alone don't care if you're an active participant or even if you're "present" (to use a popular term), they just want a warm body.

It isn't original to suggest that there's a difference between "aloneness" and "loneliness." I almost always feel I'm in good company when I'm alone. Bad company is alienating. It wastes your time, it wastes your energy; it's expensive and exhausting. Good company, be it your own or that of a friend is, well, delicious. It replenishes you. My friend, Al, told me, "You're like, well, not a loner but one of those people who doesn't hang out in groups" (clearly worried about the antisocial implications of "loner"). Why, yes, I prefer "maverick." It sounds so much more heroic than "sociopath." It implies fighting-the-good-fight as opposed to wouldn't-belong-to-any-group-who- would-have-me. You see, it's all in the perception. "Too cool for the rules" versus least popular kid in school. To be a maverick requires an unselfconscious style, which is easily obtained when you're not looking for it.

When you want to be alone, there are people who will be convinced you are depressed. In other words, anyone who would prefer his, or her, own company to theirs must be on the brink of suicide. Prepare for this. Make sure there is a cheery outgoing message on your recorder and screen your calls. Do not have a yard sale. They will assume you are divesting yourself of worldly goods to prepare for the hereafter. I kid you not. I have a friend who is a pack rat. I give her things all the time because I am not particularly materialistic (and because I cannot have a yard sale). It took years for her to accept this without asking worriedly, "Is everything all right?" Everything is fine and getting better the more I unclutter my life. Mavericks travel light.

Some of my friends consider screened calls and locked gates a challenge, an obstacle to be overcome in the name of intimacy. They will hurdle the fence, go around the side of the house and pound on my windows, yelling, "Bennett, are you there?" Why they think that if I don't open the door, I'll be happy to let them in through the window I do not know.

My father falls into this category. Once I returned to England having not slept for 48 hours because of travel delays. He called me three times to make sure I was getting enough sleep. He is also "there for you" immediately following major surgery -- showing up when I was in excruciating pain so that I crawled to the door just in time to see him drive off only to make it back to bed in time for the phone to ring. It's Dad calling from around the corner. Can he get me anything for the pain? (A gun?)

I have another friend, Erick, who plays a mean guitar and whose company I enjoy very much when I'm not in a quiet mode. Erick is one of those "drop by" people. I don't dare call to see how he's doing because instead of calling back, he will get in his car and drop by to tell me in person -- usually with a couple of bottles of champagne. He dropped by his ex-wife's house on her birthday because he felt sorry for her. "Poor old thing was probably lonely." (Let's just say she was not lonely -- or alone, for that matter.) He was just about to pound on the window when what should greet his puppylike enthusiasm for spontaneous arrival but his "poor old" ex writhing around on the couch with the carpenter. Erick relayed this to me with the indignation of a saint being turned away from the Pearly Gates. I listened with mock sympathy ("My word! What was this woman thinking? Having sex -- in her own house!") But it went right over his head.

My friends John and Sylvia are "people" people, and I love them dearly. In small doses. I have gone places and done things with them in which I have absolutely no interest because I love them. I have attended summer concerts at the boardwalk where we watched every recycled band of the '50s and '60s (usually not even the original members) play music I'm not nostalgic for. I am not a "Yankee Doodle" kind of person either, but I almost got roped into a Fourth of July parade. I begged off, saying Dad had suffered a heart attack (it turned out to be an anxiety attack -- probably brought about by finding nobody home on his "drop by" route). I even ate a hot dog on a stick and swigged beer for these people, but it's never enough.

I've resigned myself to spending the fall inside with the shades down because when the shades are up it signals, "Come on over!" My cats are stressed -- they need sunlight. I need sunlight. The coastal "summer" has finally arrived. All my friends who bask in the glow of company, like the sun, have gone inside to hibernate now that the fog has rolled in. It is finally safe to step outside. Are you looking at me?

Bennett Beach lives in Aptos with seven cats, drives a 1957 Morris Minor and is working on a book, "Going Inn-Sane," about her stint in the hospitality industry.

 

[Colleen Thomas]

I feel decidedly sorry for anyone who dosen't enjoy theirown company. For me, a weekend with a good book and only my terminally affection starved cats is usually anything but lonely.

-Colly

 

[carsonshepherd]

I long for solitude myself. With a needy SO and three needy dogs, I don't even get to go to the bathroom by myself. Since moving a few years ago I've avoided making a lot of social connections so I don't have people making demands on me all the time. I like my friends, but not constantly. My dream is to live in a (nice, modern) cabin in the woods with just my one dog. All he wants is someone to throw his toy for him.

 

[ABSTRUSE]

I too enjoy solitude, I love to be alone with my own thoughts, my own music and my own company.
I hear what you say about the clinical depression P. same boat, so time with friends is few and far between.

I would actually be content to live with someone who understood when I do go quiet it's not a bad thing. I may like having a physical presence with me, but I don't need to talk constantly.

 

[CrazyyAngel]

This essay is funny, but also rings true for me. I more often than not find solitude a luxury. I never answer my phone or the door unless I am expecting someone. I only like my own and the company of close friends. I like staying in my flat an entire weekend sometimes. Many of you know I am a depressive (clinically) so it can be tricky for my friends, and me, but aside from that I do love real solitude. You? - Perdita

I like being alone ... sometimes I just say I am used to it now, depends on my mood. After especially busy days or weeks I really want to be alone, have it quiet and noone disturbing. But generally I feel kinda lonely ... to the point where it gets depressing, but thats another topic.

CA

 

[Guest]

CA, that's the thing about lonliness, one can also be very lonely in a crowd or in a bed with someone. Bigg diff, but do enjoy your solitudes when you can. For the rest, yeah, it's different matter.

Best, Perdita

 

[carsonshepherd]

At last a good word for me. I'm not a "surly recluse" - I'm a maverick! Yaay!

 

[cloudy]

I cherish the time I get to spend by myself!

With a four-year-old, those times are few and far between, unfortunately.

I enjoy my own company very much. A good book is all I need to make an entire weekend just speed by.

And, there's something to be said for eating cheerios at midnight just because.

 

[Huckleman2000]

depression and solitude

I also understand about depression and the quiet bliss of solitude. I have no second thoughts about letting the phone roll over to voicemail, and I don't answer the door unless I'm expecting someone.

Still, my therapist (when I could afford her) was very insistent on becoming more involved with people. And I think she had a good point.

I don't much like people. I love to watch them, and even interact on some level, but for the most part, they seem like a particularly shallow and stupid lot. It just seems like most humans are willing to buy into a social construct that just doesn't make a lot of sense to me.

My therapist would say, "Why is it so important that you understand it, and that it makes sense to you? Why can't you simply accept it?"

And I guess that's where I get hung up.

 

[Boota]

I was celibate for a long time and a large part of that was that I wanted to be alone. All the time. I've went weeks at a time without speaking to or seeing another person and I was fine with that. My voice has quit on me before from lack of use when I would spend a lot of time alone. I would try to talk and nothing would come out at first.

I'm in a relationship now and I'm publicly active in both of my careers, and I do love it. But, I still miss my solitude sometimes. I know I'm with the right woman because she is the only person I have never felt was intruding on me.

 

[sincerely_helene]

This essay is funny, but also rings true for me. I more often than not find solitude a luxury. I never answer my phone or the door unless I am expecting someone. I only like my own and the company of close friends. I like staying in my flat an entire weekend sometimes. Many of you know I am a depressive (clinically) so it can be tricky for my friends, and me, but aside from that I do love real solitude. You? - Perdita

Why choosing to be alone doesn't necessarily indicate suicidal tendencies - Bennett Beach, SF Chronicle, October 10, 2004

It has come to my attention that not many people like solitude.

My sisters do not enjoy their own company, nor anyone else's for that matter. It's a curious irony that people who can't stand being alone perceive others not as good company, but as a means to avoiding their own. One of my sisters actually followed me into the bathroom the last (and I do mean the last) time I visited her, where she continued her one-sided conversation. People who don't like to be alone don't care if you're an active participant or even if you're "present" (to use a popular term), they just want a warm body.

It isn't original to suggest that there's a difference between "aloneness" and "loneliness." I almost always feel I'm in good company when I'm alone. Bad company is alienating. It wastes your time, it wastes your energy; it's expensive and exhausting. Good company, be it your own or that of a friend is, well, delicious. It replenishes you. My friend, Al, told me, "You're like, well, not a loner but one of those people who doesn't hang out in groups" (clearly worried about the antisocial implications of "loner"). Why, yes, I prefer "maverick." It sounds so much more heroic than "sociopath." It implies fighting-the-good-fight as opposed to wouldn't-belong-to-any-group-who- would-have-me. You see, it's all in the perception. "Too cool for the rules" versus least popular kid in school. To be a maverick requires an unselfconscious style, which is easily obtained when you're not looking for it.

When you want to be alone, there are people who will be convinced you are depressed. In other words, anyone who would prefer his, or her, own company to theirs must be on the brink of suicide. Prepare for this. Make sure there is a cheery outgoing message on your recorder and screen your calls. Do not have a yard sale. They will assume you are divesting yourself of worldly goods to prepare for the hereafter. I kid you not. I have a friend who is a pack rat. I give her things all the time because I am not particularly materialistic (and because I cannot have a yard sale). It took years for her to accept this without asking worriedly, "Is everything all right?" Everything is fine and getting better the more I unclutter my life. Mavericks travel light.

Some of my friends consider screened calls and locked gates a challenge, an obstacle to be overcome in the name of intimacy. They will hurdle the fence, go around the side of the house and pound on my windows, yelling, "Bennett, are you there?" Why they think that if I don't open the door, I'll be happy to let them in through the window I do not know.

My father falls into this category. Once I returned to England having not slept for 48 hours because of travel delays. He called me three times to make sure I was getting enough sleep. He is also "there for you" immediately following major surgery -- showing up when I was in excruciating pain so that I crawled to the door just in time to see him drive off only to make it back to bed in time for the phone to ring. It's Dad calling from around the corner. Can he get me anything for the pain? (A gun?)

I have another friend, Erick, who plays a mean guitar and whose company I enjoy very much when I'm not in a quiet mode. Erick is one of those "drop by" people. I don't dare call to see how he's doing because instead of calling back, he will get in his car and drop by to tell me in person -- usually with a couple of bottles of champagne. He dropped by his ex-wife's house on her birthday because he felt sorry for her. "Poor old thing was probably lonely." (Let's just say she was not lonely -- or alone, for that matter.) He was just about to pound on the window when what should greet his puppylike enthusiasm for spontaneous arrival but his "poor old" ex writhing around on the couch with the carpenter. Erick relayed this to me with the indignation of a saint being turned away from the Pearly Gates. I listened with mock sympathy ("My word! What was this woman thinking? Having sex -- in her own house!") But it went right over his head.

My friends John and Sylvia are "people" people, and I love them dearly. In small doses. I have gone places and done things with them in which I have absolutely no interest because I love them. I have attended summer concerts at the boardwalk where we watched every recycled band of the '50s and '60s (usually not even the original members) play music I'm not nostalgic for. I am not a "Yankee Doodle" kind of person either, but I almost got roped into a Fourth of July parade. I begged off, saying Dad had suffered a heart attack (it turned out to be an anxiety attack -- probably brought about by finding nobody home on his "drop by" route). I even ate a hot dog on a stick and swigged beer for these people, but it's never enough.

I've resigned myself to spending the fall inside with the shades down because when the shades are up it signals, "Come on over!" My cats are stressed -- they need sunlight. I need sunlight. The coastal "summer" has finally arrived. All my friends who bask in the glow of company, like the sun, have gone inside to hibernate now that the fog has rolled in. It is finally safe to step outside. Are you looking at me?

Bennett Beach lives in Aptos with seven cats, drives a 1957 Morris Minor and is working on a book, "Going Inn-Sane," about her stint in the hospitality industry.

I adore this subject. Thank you, Perdita.

While I have deserverdly earned the title of recluse over the past few years, harder yet for me has been my family and friends unwillingness to accept this side of me. I only wish I could count on one hand the amount of times that someone close has questioned my sanity enough to do all but attempt contact with the local exorcist to save my wounded soul.

The truth is, you see, I'm not depressed at all. In fact, the only thing I have ever found more depressing than actually being depressed, is everyones quick assessment that I must in fact be depressed simply because I enjoy my own company. I never used to think there was anything wrong with me mentally, until I was confronted with so many Doctors and self-professed experts evaluating me to the point where I had become the gineau pig of questionable medications and numerous lables. Once you get told you are something enough, you tend to believe it after a while.

Anyway, to make a long story short, My family and friends have finally come to terms with who I am, after witnessing first-hand the horrible effects that pills had on me. They may not see me as often as they would like, but when they do they assuredly take note that my smile is no longer drug induced and plastic, but rather the genuine smile of someone who is simply content to be alone with their own thoughts sometimes. They could have saved me a lot of headaches had they simply listened me when I told them I was OK in the first place.

 

[bloodsimple]

It's often a fine line between being alone and feeling lonely. Sometimes it's the construct you impose on your situation, which may be either a genuine feeling, or an attempt to rationalise the situation you face.

For example, many of you have cited putting the telephone on voicemail and not rushing to answer the door.
But what if the telephone never rings? What if no-one calls round, unexpected or not? What if, in our rushing, helter-skelter world, you have such little interaction that you can go days or weeks without a meaningful conversation? Is it solitude and enjoying your own company, or is it a problem?

I find the loneliest people I've ever met are the people who cannot cope with their own company. Since this is the one person they're bound to be with 24/7, that seems lonely and not a little aggravating as a circumstance. They'd be the same people who can't abide silence, especially when there's someone else in the room. Silence must be ended, gaps must be filled, etc.

So yes, those people who assume you're depressed because you like your own company and can get along fine with it, they're annoying. But if no-one was expressing any concern for your welfare, would that be worse?

 

[rgraham666]

I will cheerfully admit to being a loner. I like my own company.

But, although it took me years to recognize it, I like being around people as well. As long as they accept me for who I am and don't try to force me to live according to their wants.

That, more than anything, was what sparked my deep depression. Feeling that the price of belonging was too high, that to not be alone would require giving up most of me.

Luckily, I've found people who I can be close to without giving up too much of myself. Including many of the people here on the AH.

Thanks all.

 

[Goldie Munro]

I like my own company and love nothing more than holeing up for a weekend with good nosh and wine, a good book, DVd etc - I also screen calls and don't answer the door bell if not expecting anyone (unless I smell smoke!!),

I do, however, also love being part of a partnership and around friends and if on my own too much do feel lonely which makes me search out people I want to be with. Like most things its finding a balance that suits you. My partner at the moment is away a lot - and I'm very content!

 

[oggbashan]

I like having the choice

If I want to be alone - I can be.

If I want to be gregarious - I can be.

If someone calls unexpectedly when I'm being 'alone' it doesn't matter. The next story gets deferred a few hours.

I try not to call on people unexpectedly because they may have other engagements but if I am travelling I would telephone ahead and drop in for a coffee - at a time that suits them.

Flexibility is better than becoming upset because you have company at an inconvenient time, or don't have company when you want it. In the latter case I can find company just by walking through my town. If I can't find someone to talk to in ten minutes the weather must be dire - or England are playing an important match - so I head for the nearest pub.

Smiling at strangers can start conversations even if they think you are weird - but you know I am anyway.

Og

PS. In desperate need, I can always dress up as Henry VIII and walk through the town. Or drop in on the Police Station to get a return for all the cups of coffee I've supplied to bored policemen.

 

[Sabledrake]

Hmm ... I prefer to think of myself as an e-cluse ... I have lots of interactions with others, just very rarel;y face to face

Sabledrake

 

[McKenna]

...I prefer "maverick." It sounds so much more heroic than "sociopath."

Me too.

Perdita, I so "get" this article. I'm right there with you (and the author!) The good thing is, Mr McKenna is build of the same stuff, so we are often found at home enjoying our solitude. It's what I call "quiet companionship," just knowing he is there but not feeeling like I must interact with him (or he with me.)

I liked this line from the article as well: "To be a maverick requires an unselfconscious style, which is easily obtained when you're not looking for it. " How true. It seems the best things in life come to us when we aren't looking for it!

I've been reading Thoreau's Walden recently, and was reminded of a passage from the book when reading the essay above. I'll share it with you, too, because I think you'll appreciate it.

"I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers. ...Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We meet at meals three times a day and give each other a new taste of that old musty cheese that we are. We have had to agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this frequent meeting tolerable, and that we need not come to open war. ...We live thick and are in each other's way, and stumble over one another, and I think that we thus lose some respect for one another."

 

[cheeryorchid]

at home in my head

This is an interesting subject.

There is a big difference in being a loner and being depressed; even if you do have tendencies towards clinical depression. First of all let me say that EVERYONE gets depressed. Some may not recognize it and there are levels of severity but no one please feel you are alone in getting the blues. Sometimes you can have them and not even realize it.

Here I lend this way of measure. Depression is when you come to a place that you can't quiet put your finger on how you got there. If you find yourself isolated for days and you forget the reason that you began this freeze out of human contact. Or you discover that the things you would tend to do you have no drive to do. It's important to evaluate your purpose...especially if you know that depression is something that you battle. A good rule of thumb, set a daily goal (small ones count too) and meet them. Progress is the key.

On the part of just wanting to be alone, I think that it is a very well rounded intelligent thing to do. Like so many have said before me on this list, being able to enjoy ones own company is a good thing. If you can be content with being by yourself then it shows self awareness in who you are. If you find yourself in a point where you need additional warm bodies around at all times to feel secure in yourself, then THERE are your insecurities.

I measure a good friend by my ability to be in the same place with them and my need to communicate in some way. My best friend in the universe I can spend an entire weekend with her and not really talk to her. We sit in the same room and read, or watch tv or just do our own things, it's the closeness of just being with each other and knowing that she accepts me for who I am that makes me want to be near. It's the knowledge that I can always be who I am and feel how I feel good or bad in front of her that makes her the best friend in the world. When I have a friend that I need to "Chat" with at all times then I know that we are not at the whole friend state.

It's good to take mental health days. Those are my favorites. That's what I call the days when my brain has had enough and I know if I have to listen to one more person, consult with one more family, do anything that involves social interaction I'll just melt away. I sit in my pj's watch a few classic movies and I just know when I'm ready. I don't want to talk to anyone, I just veg for the day and then Bam I'm ready to go. But I know that if I can't pull out of it, there's something wrong.

So my long essay that I doubt anyone reads due to it's length, can be summed up by this. Loners and lonely are different. If you can enjoy who you are, you will always be more mentally sound. I do think, however, that it is good to always challenge ourselves. If you are a true loner, you may need to make it a point to progress towards social interaction. I'm not saying go buck wild and you have to make 50 superficial friends, join a cult or something. But make a point to nod and say hello to the neighbor, call the comfy friend and talk for a bit. Challenge yourself always! And always remember to ask yourself, why am I doing this, and why is this important to me?

Sorry, I just enjoyed the topic so much I wanted to write down my thoughts. I like my alone time, I NEED it. Plus I am a therapist. No shit, I don't just play one on tv!

 

[Guest]

I'm glad I posted this thread, and appreciate everyone's comments. I like that others get it. I recall now two quotes, though not verbatim.

Katherine Hepburn said, a long time ago so that it made an impression on me, that she liked her own company, that "I am never bored with myself."

James Joyce meant something similar when he said, "My mind is a universe to me".

Happy solitude everyone, Perdita

 

[sweetnpetite]

I enjoy solitude, but tend to have hermetical tendancies and have been known to overdo it.

I consider myself an optimist, yet I often battle with depression.

I have a very take it easy, type B personality, yet also suffer with stress and stress related problems.

I am inconsistant and contradictory.

Now if you will all just leave me alone...

 

[sweetnpetite]

On the other hand, I love people and am very social too.

 

[impressive]

Like Colly said, I feel sorry for anyone who doesn't enjoy their own company.

Not only do I enjoy solitude, I *need* it. When I don't get it, I get irritable -- then feel trapped -- then depressed.

Summers, when the kids are off school, are very tough on me. I miss my mornings home alone -- even if I have to spend them in the throes of domestic drudgery.

 

[Joe Wordsworth]

I don't do "alone". If I'm without company, I'm restless and discontent. I can't spend more than, maybe, an hour by myself--unless I'm working on something important that requires all of my attention... but even then, I like having people around to talk at while I work.

 

[matriarch]

I don't do "alone". If I'm without company, I'm restless and discontent. I can't spend more than, maybe, an hour by myself--unless I'm working on something important that requires all of my attention... but even then, I like having people around to talk at while I work.

hmmmmmmmm, interesting choice of words, Joe.

I think I come into the category of enjoys both, but when deprived of one or the other (company or solitude), crave it badly.

As most of the world probably know, I have recently, in fact, in the last 4 weeks, moved into my first ever home to live on my own. At the age of 55, quite a new beginning. I am thoroughly enjoying 'being on my own', to do what I want, when I want. Last weekend was very busy, with one son home and running around...this weekend I am so looking forward to just being me, on my own. Over the last 8 or 9 years I have desperately craved the solitude that is now mine.

 

[Guest]

Over the last 8 or 9 years I have desperately craved the solitude that is now mine.

Mat., I hear you. My younger son finally moved out a couple months ago. Just me an my bunny now. I love it, especially wearing anything, or barely anything. I won't be shocked if either son needs to 'come back home' at some point(s), but for now I am content and not the least bit lonely.

Perdita