When I decided to go to college, I thought everything would change and I was going to be more social. However, entering college with a boyfriend back home 3 hours away who was manipulative and controlling gave me a new meaning to the word 'lonely'. I was manipulated into thinking that I needed to be talking on the phone with him, on Skype with him or texting him 24/7 because we were the only ones who were there for each other. When I got out of that relationship, I realized that outside of my family, I had no close friendships with anyone because everyone who tried to be friends with me, I had pushed away for that boy.
Once he was gone, I felt like I was completely by myself while I was here at Plymouth State. I would talk with my family back home on the phone, but other than them I had no connections to anyone. I went to classes alone, went to meals alone, did homework alone. I felt like an outlier, which was isolating. I no longer had that person on the other side of the internet connection to help ignore how lonely I was. It caused a great deal of anxiety and stress for me, especially since I didn't have a car; I was unable to go home when I wanted to and escape the loneliness I felt on campus.
My fall semester junior year, I decided to do an exchange program and I went to Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona. Again, I had the thought of everything changing and that I would suddenly come out of my shell and make a bunch of new friends; it didn't. Well, not immediately.
I spent four months out there, with no one that I had ever met within 2,000 miles of me.The first couple of weeks, the loneliness was the worst it had ever been. Most of the time, I was in my room doing my homework alone and texting with family back home, or I was working/in classes. I would call my mom whenever I could to make it feel like I had that connection with someone. She would tell me to give it a few more weeks, that I would find at least one friend. But once we hung up the call, I was back to the isolated feelings that felt inescapable.
The moment I began to learn how to enjoy being alone was when I decided to take a trip to Denver, Colorado and see a concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater by myself. I was still in Arizona and I had no one to go with, but I had wanted to go to Red Rocks since I was about 12 years old. I didn't want to miss the opportunity to be close enough for it to make sense to go, so I just went. It was one of the best decisions and experiences of my life.
Once I did that, I realized that I may be alone, but that doesn't mean I need be sad about it. Doing things by myself was actually fun. I didn't need to worry about other people and if they were enjoying themselves, and I didn't need to wait around for a time to work for other people. If I wanted to do something, I could just go, do it, and have fun. After time, I didn't need to be connecting over the phone with my mom everyday to feel like I had worth.
After that trip to Colorado, I started going to the movie theater by myself, I would go to meals without feeling self conscious of being the only person who didn't have someone to eat a meal with. I began just being able to be my own company and not feeling like I needed another person or a group of people to not be lonely.
Also once I began doing things by myself and not getting down about it, I began actually making friends. While I was in Arizona, I met my boyfriend, I moved apartments and had a close relationship with my roommate, which I had never had before then. It was new to me. I found myself wanting to hang out with these people, something I hadn't felt for people outside of my family since I broke up with my high school boyfriend. I had gotten so used to the sadness of being alone, then the happiness of being alone, that making friends still wasn't something I was cognitively thinking about, but I did it.
Before writing this, I had been thinking if I wanted to write a blog post and share all these personal anecdotes from my life with anyone who may decide to read this. This morning, I found an article about a photographer, Eric Pickersgill, who photographs people as if they're holding their phones during everyday activities, but their phones have been removed to show how isolated we have become from one another due to technology, even when we think we're with other people. This, again, made me start thinking about my life, and other people's lives and the influence technology has on all of us. Being "alone together" is toxic.
Being alone is okay. There is nothing wrong with not having someone to be talking with all of the time. Taking the time to be by ourselves, as in not being physically or virtually with other people, is something I think everyone should experience in a time where our phones burn holes in our pockets if they're in there for too long. For some people, it might be awkward at first, doing things that they would normally do with others by themselves. Once disconnecting from those on our phones happens more and more, it can be almost therapeutic, but that might just be the introvert in me.
I don't believe the internet is bad. I have my internet friends that I can only talk to online. Hell, even my romantic relationship is sustained because of technology like texting, video chats, etc. But maybe a limit needs to be established; designating time to get off our technology and just enjoy our own company.
What do you think? Do you like being truly alone? Have you had an experience that made you realize how alone you really were after the device was no longer an option to cover that loneliness?
This is such a reassuring thing to share, thank you for deciding to share it! I have to admit that sometimes I look like the subjects in Pickersgill's photos: connected to people from other places, but disconnected from those around me, isolating myself by putting my mind far away from my body. When I do consciously silence my phone or leave it in my bag or pocket, I definitely find myself having more fun in the present and in the moment with the people around me. As it turns out, I concentrate better when I'm not having two or three conversations at once.
ReplyDeleteOne of the times I consciously put my phone away in an effort to make connections with people around me was my first semester at PSU. I had just transferred from Trinity College and didn't know anyone on campus (although it turned out that wasn't totally true: I went to middle school on the North Shore of Massachusetts with one guy and high school with a girl who lived in Langdon on the same floor as me). It was tempting to text my friends from high school and my first year of college a lot to maintain the connection and shy away from the awkwardness of being new, but I realized if I did that I would never make any connections here and would be isolated for the rest of my college career. Luckily, I pushed past my awkwardness and applied for jobs, spoke to classmates, and joined The Clock (hi coworker!!). I couldn't be more grateful that I made myself put down my phone in those first few weeks of my first semester here.
This was a very relatable post. Much as I hate to admit it, I have shared this same concern countless times. I suspect this is true for almost anyone, as loneliness resulting from an overdependence on technology happens to the best of us.
ReplyDeleteYour counterargument against the notion that alone equals loneliness is something I agree with wholeheartedly. Not to disagree with your viewpoint, I’d simply like to bring up another perspective neither you or Eric Pickersgill brought up, which is the matter of sensory stimulus. Many existing researches, such as one on “White Torture” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_torture), point out that humans are inherently social creatures who constantly thrive on stimuli. Should the source of sensory stimuli be cut off, the deprivation would have a detrimental effect on our minds which can sometimes even lead to insanity. With that in mind, another explanation for our dependence on technology, aside from loneliness, would be how it is an extremely accessible source of stimuli that requires no training aside from ownership of an electrical device.
Therefore, whenever we fail to connect with new friends and thus hang out with old ones through social media, it’s not only a sign of loneliness, but also a sign of boredom.
This is such a relatable able and eye opening blog, I truly enjoyed reading it. Being alone takes time to get used to. It is something we all struggle with at first, but you conquer it you feel like nothing could even bother you anymore. When I moved from towns in high school, I had never been so isolated and alone before. Being with all these new people who are already friends with one another is never easy. I am an adventurous person though, so I would go to the beach by myself and just walk at night. I would go to a restaurant alone, and just enjoy my time alone. After I learned to do this I became less worried about what people thought and started introducing myself to more people at my new school. I became friends with people that were just all so different it was amazing.
ReplyDeleteThe photographs by Eric Pickergill, are sad but true. I am guilty of looking like this in a public setting all the time. The picture of the couples actually hurt my heart a little bit because I know that when my boyfriend and I sit in bed on our phones I start to feel a bit sad. I hate that conversation is so reduced due to our phones. I want to sit in bed and talk about your favorite color, and your childhood. I don't want to hear about what funny meme you tweeted a year ago today, but that is the sad truth of what phones have come to.