Loneliness

I know it’s cliche to say, but it really is weird how you can feel lonely when you’re surrounded by people. Although, that’s a different kind of loneliness than you feel when you’re really isolated.

During my short isolation in New Hampshire, I started to go insane. I remember lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, trying desperately to get to sleep. Then awakening in the night, disoriented, not knowing where I was, confused, scared. I would look in the mirror and not recognize myself. Disassociation. Hallucination. Pretty standard stuff.

One thing that I remember that was particularly strange was sitting on a bench in Hanover and looking up at the sky over the buildings on Main Street. The whole world before me seemed to condense into a single plane. The buildings, trees, and clouds looked flat, like they were props in a stage play.

It seemed hellish at the time, but I’m glad that I went through it. Ultimately, it helped me to appreciate people more. To find meaning in even small interactions. A quick wave from a pedestrian as he walked in front of my car. A nod from the clerk at a convenience store.

Anyway, I wrote this poem about it.

Loneliness

I awaken in the night

Outside of time and space

Without a face

Without a name

And I am a brain in a jar.

It went something like that. I can’t find it anymore. So it goes.