Loneliness is probably the one thing about the pandemic that can’t be fixed in a hurry, and though I am not clinically depressed about not being able to see, even engage with, and certainly not socialise with my friends, it does get to me!
We are, after all, a social species, for whom socialisation is almost a condition of survival, and loneliness is something that most of us are able to ‘park’ during our most active, most productive years, but that tends to have more impact on us as we begin to ‘slow down,’ in our 60s, when our decreasing mobility reduces our physical ability to socialise. Now, before hordes of healthy and active over sixties come down on me like a ton of rocks… there are exceptions to the rule.
Hawkley and Cacioppo imply that loneliness is synonymous with the perception of, rather than objective social isolation, and people can live relatively solitary lives not feeling lonely, however conversely, they can live an what appears to be a full, rich, and enviable social life and feel profound loneliness. They write, “Loneliness is defined as a distressing feeling that accompanies the perception that one’s social needs are not being met by the quantity, or especially the quality, of one’s social relationships,” and of course, thanks to Covid-19, re-labelled variously as ‘Delta’ and ‘Omicron,’ these are now an uncomfortable reality.
Long held scientifically proven perceptions of isolation alter our perspectives so that we become more perceptive of threats, maybe even starting to see them where none exist, while we also become vulnerable to desperation, which changes the way we approach every day, becoming less active, depriving us of quality sleep, and psychologically crippling our ability to see humour, or good, in anything. In other words, we virtually (no pun intended) become grumpy and unattractive. People don’t want to spend time with us even if they could. Talk about ‘hamster wheels!’
An uncomfortable consequence is that most of us prioritise sociability to such an extent that we see our phones, tablets, laptops, and computers, as the epitome of communicability, eventually settling for them as the best we can do. We become slaves to the pseudo-connectivity of the Internet, and that actually drives us even more swiftly, more surely, into the arms of real-world solitude.
Lonely is not just being alone, it is feeling alone, but Ndang Sugiharto spoke of the most lonely and haunted feelings in the world are when you reach for those you thought would always be there, and they are not. We always feel then at our most forlorn, and it is strange then how our loneliness, always a matter of relationships, has now become a matter of acquaintances, and the matter of setting the bar ever lower. It’s such a shame.
They say, they sing, they write, they act out that love hurts, when really it is a ‘babe in arms,’ compared to the world of hurt that loneliness brings. Rejection, disappointment, blame, broken hearts, lost love, embarrassment, loss, envy, comparison, doubt, disrespect, injury, betrayal, fault, discrimination, carelessness, stupidity, even innocent words spoken rashly, they can all hurt… but none of them as badly as loneliness.
There is no simple response, no easy answer, though Islam is replete with empowering advice that asks you to reflect and seek the comfort of your faith. Mufti Ismail Menk writes, “When you feel lonely and frustrated, know that it is a part of your trials and tribulations, and guide your heart back to the Almighty for peace.” Yasmin Mogahed too offers advice that, “Your anxiety is a sign that you have placed your faith in yourself, rather than Allah.” I wouldn’t be so sure, but I do admire the certainty of faith.
I like the ironic expression that loneliness is an ‘equal opportunity tenant,’ one that is thriving in an isolationist environment, with a fervour we were unprepared for. Our character, belief, and personality have never been so fundamental to ‘finding’ one another again.
