I’ve seen the numbers, but honestly it’s pretty wild for me to read this thread. Many people’s stories paint a picture in my mind of lives that feel devoid of richness, almost like watching an advertisement or a sitcom.
Sadly, I come across this rarely in my everyday life. It would be a richer experience for me to have a more balanced sense of how people are doing.
I was mercifully spared from aloneness by having a powerful and outgoing best friend as a child, and by a nature that ruthlessly seeks “where the action is.” That said, I used to often feel alone when I was with people, specifically. I now call this “feeling unseen,” and it took me a long time to learn that, though sometimes I was just with the wrong people, much of the time it was because I wasn’t expressing myself authentically.
I’ve long since moved to the Bay Area, which, while an odd place, does offer many ladders out of the predicament of disconnection. There are many ways to actively learn the skills of connection here—through therapy, community practice, and structured relational work—and I practiced enough that I can now teach. Many people also learn and deepen their own skills by interacting with the community I’m part of.
The question of whether there’s a solution ... well, when one becomes acquainted with the field of learning the underlying skills that can address loneliness—which goes by many names and has many purported aims—it turns out that the path is well-mapped from pretty much every perspective, and in ways tailored for most types of people. Some of the best books are international best-sellers, and you can just go buy them and read them.
I don’t think the solution, per se, is unknown. The issue seems to be that people don’t know they can help themselves, or don’t believe they can, or perhaps in some cases lack the resources or support to get help.
Most people, I think, are afraid. And if I had to guess at why this seems more common than it once was, it’s probably because many people are no longer being forced by circumstance to confront their fears in the way previous generations often were.
It also seems to me that this is an inevitable result of our urban planning and the rising effective cost of housing since the ’70s.
If you’re such a person reading this who finds themselves alone, the main thing I have to say is: far more is possible than it probably feels like right now. I’ve seen many miracles happen, and correspondingly very few failures among those I’ve seen genuinely try. Paths to wholeness are innumerable—and what worked for me probably won’t work for you—but if you keep trying, there’s a good chance you’ll find yourself somewhere adjacent to where I find myself now: with more love and connection in my life than I know what to do with.
The path begins with acknowledging your fear, and learning to feel and see it as a guide. This doesn’t mean leaping off a cliff; it often starts very small. Go toward what feels terrifying, what feels cringe, what you dismiss or push away. Investigate those things and find out for yourself what’s really there. Once you begin doing this, the path becomes obvious ... it’s right in front of you.