When the Lonelies Hit

It's been 50 weeks since the the US began shutting down due to the coronavirus pandemic. 

Dallin and I went out to eat on a Saturday and then two days later all restaurants in Bloomington closed for the foreseeable future. We cancelled a weekend trip to Chicago with the expectation that "things might be better in a couple weeks." We had just sent out most of our wedding invites for a May celebration and were still somewhat optimistic we'd be able to party with friends and family as planned. The only accurate foresight I had was the sinking feeling I wouldn't get to spend the summer in Austria with Dallin teaching on a study abroad. 

COVID-19 has disrupted our lives and turned them upside down. Many of us have lost loved ones, or know those who have lost loved ones, or have dealt with other devastating health consequences.

We have all had to deal with cancelled plans, lost experiences, and adjusted expectations. 

On top of those, we've encountered days, weeks, and maybe months of intense loneliness and disconnection. 

I didn't think loneliness was hitting me too hard, especially in the initial months on the pandemic. I had an energetic puppy and a great, new husband after all. Surely that was enough. I felt (and still feel) quite lucky in many regards because of the extensive time Dallin and I have been able to spend together during our first year of marriage. Plus I have always considered myself somewhat of an ambivert (is that a copout? Maybe everyone thinks that), so I didn't think I was suffering as much as true extroverts during the shutdowns. 

But as the pandemic has dragged on--and on and on and on--it's taken its toll. I am sorely missing a physical community. Not to mention, people were already writing articles MERE WEEKS into the pandemic about how to cope with loneliness. 

Yesterday was a hard today for no particular reason other than the heavy isolation hanging in the air. Well, the cold weather we've been having wasn't helping either. And so at the end of the day, I finally admitted to Dallin that I was lonely and began to sob (the gross big kind, not the gentle dainty kind). 

I usually connect with people over vulnerable experiences and big ideas. I enjoy being challenged with unexpected life stories and perspectives. I missed staying up late with friends, both old and new, talking about our feelings and experiences.

About love. Family. 

Loss. Bodies. Faith.

Sexuality. God. Race. 

Politics. Pain. Work. 

Fears. Mistakes we'd made. 

Dogs.

Why we thought it was a good idea to plant pumpkins in a tiny indoor pot in February.

Things we had overcome or were working on overcoming.

The best and worst parts of something. 

Podcasts we listened to or articles and books we read. 

Sharing stories of our early life dreams.

Or first loves or devastating heartbreaks.

How our opinions had changed over time. 

I missed hearing new voices and just more voices generally. 

Phone calls have helped a lot. Zoom has helped (usually that is. It can also be quite draining). Sometimes social media works, sometimes it makes things worse. 

But virtual connections still seem to fall short of physically being with people, of putting aside not only time but space to connect with others. I suppose this has to do partly with what I believe the purpose of life is. Brené Brown has argued: "We are hardwired for connection. From our mirror neurons to language, we are a social species. In the absence of authentic connection, we suffer. And by authentic I mean the kind of connection that doesn’t require hustling for acceptance and changing who we are to fit in."

I am 100% on board with that. I believe we are here to build relationships, to gain and share knowledge and authentic experiences with each other, to learn to feel radical love for ourselves and for those around us.

This isn't written with a solution for the lonelies. Simply to acknowledge that the past 50 weeks have not been easy. That you can be lonely even if you are surrounded by a loving partner, family, or pet.

Thanks to those reaching out to me and to other loved ones in whatever creative ways you have discovered during corona times. We all need to know that we may feel lonely, but we are not alone.