I’ve seen quite a few news reports and political manifestos over the course of the last few years that claim “we” as a society are supposedly doing something to “tackle loneliness”.
Okay. What? What are “we” doing to tackle loneliness? Because from where I’m sitting in this extremely lonely state of mind, I can see precisely fuck all going on. I am in a position where I feel like I need some sort of help in this regard, and I do not have a fucking clue where I might go to find it.
Oh, I can see lots of statistics and reports that confirm indeed, yes, people are feeling lonely. But no actual action taking place. Lots of big words like “we need to take a holistic life course approach” and other such shit, but no actual evidence of anything really being done.
Which, of course, begs the question: exactly what can be done? “Tackling loneliness” isn’t just a case of dumping a bunch of people in a room and telling them to talk to one another — though one of our local bus companies seems to think that branding their buses the “ChattyBus” and encouraging people to make “bus friends” is an approach that will have any effect whatsoever, clearly not understanding that the sort of people who will talk to you on a bus are generally not people you want in your immediate circle of friends.
There are volunteer services that exist in an attempt to “tackle loneliness”, but I feel like these would always feel very artificial. Someone is acting like your friend because it’s their job to act like your friend. I’m sure real social connections can and do come about as a result of initiatives like this, but judging by a quick scoot around the websites for ones in the general area, they are all very oversubscribed. Which, in itself, probably says something that isn’t all that good.
Mostly I just want my old friendships back. Friendships from before an age of social media, friendships from before the worldwide political stage became the perpetual firework show it seems to be these days, friendships from when we were all just happy to hang out and do something fun in one another’s company.
And it’s not as if I haven’t tried to maintain those friendships that used to be like that. But I always seem to be faced with resistance: resistance that seems to grow by the year. I have reached a point where I feel very much unwanted by a lot of people with whom I used to be very close, and it upsets me. Like, really upsets me. Keeps-me-awake-at-night upsets me.
And this feeling of being unwanted of course feeds into other mental health issues — including self-esteem and social anxiety. If the people who are supposedly some of my oldest friends don’t want me, how on Earth can I be expected to find the confidence to make new friends? How, even, do you make new friends in 2024? I just don’t know any more.
In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever known. I’ve told this story before, but I’ll tell it again, because it’s relevant.
On my first day at secondary school, I was pleased to discover I was in a class with several of the people I had known at primary school — including the person who was ostensibly my “best friend”. We had been put in a seating arrangement for morning registration, presumably in an attempt to get us to mingle a bit and get to know one another. I was sat next to a lad called Murray. I had absolutely no idea how to talk to him. I vividly remember turning around to my former “best friend”, who was sitting behind me, and urgently whispering to him “I don’t remember how to make friends”.
Because I didn’t. And I still don’t. Any friendships I found myself in tended to be ones of circumstance such as living together in the same flat at university, and I always felt like I existed on the periphery of larger friendship groups that these acquaintances had. I felt like I was “intruding”, like I wouldn’t be welcome if I tried to ingratiate myself with these people who “weren’t my friends”. Those people were their friends, not my friends, and what right did I have to attempt to call them my friends too?
It looks silly on paper, I’m sure, but that’s the reality of social anxiety. Legitimately one of my proudest moments of personal growth in my whole life is a time I was caught in a lift with a stranger I was on a music course with and I plucked up the courage to actually introduce myself. I felt enormously awkward and like a complete idiot at the time, but that one occasion actually became a genuine friendship — and several other friendships came about as a result of that initial contact.
But good Lord, did it ever feel like scaling Everest to get those words out of my mouth in the first place. And these days, I don’t exactly find myself stuck in a lift with people I might have something in common with all that often. So here I am, stuck typing this to myself at 11:15 on a Sunday night, wondering where it all went wrong and even if it’s possible to fix things at this point. Because the longer this goes on, the more I worry about what the end result of it all might be for me.
I’m lonely. That’s about it, really.
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