One of the things I’ve found hardest to deal with in grief is the extreme sense of loneliness. Very often, the sense of isolation overwhelms me, and it is usually in these times when I find myself at my lowest ebb emotionally. Most of my tears now, even 11 months on, flow from the sickening sense of loneliness I feel constantly.
Of course it’s not surprising that loneliness would be one of grief’s most difficult experiences. Most people would anticipate that. What’s hard to anticipate is just how pervasive and inescapable it is. I can’t recall a moment when loneliness has not been my closest friend in this journey.
But while loneliness is not surprising, it can be quite confusing. Because even when you’re surrounded by people, the very best of people, loneliness can still exist. In fact it can even be amplified by being in the company of others.
Why? Well, I think the reason lies in the difference between “loneliness” and “aloneness”. The two are not the same thing. You can be alone and not lonely. Conversely, you can be surrounded by people and still feel desperately alone.
Again, why? Well, for me at least, it comes down to the fact that when you lose someone you love, you lose someone who knows you intimately, you lose someone who gives you purpose, and you lose someone who brings you deep-seated contentment.
Suse was all those things to me. She had access to the inner-sanctum of my identity in a way no other person ever has. When we vowed to grow in love together, we actually vowed to grow together in love. And we did that. We grew into each other. Over the years, we gave ourselves to each other more and more, trusting our vulnerabilities would never be abused or mishandled by the other, but rather that they’d be nurtured and supported. We knew what the other loved. We knew what the other feared. We knew when to give each other space. We knew when to draw close. We accepted each other warts and all, without judgement.
And when you lose all that, it really does feel like you’ve lost everything. You feel very exposed. Isolated. Sad. Scared. You feel like you can’t and won’t survive. Pure loneliness. And quite simply it cannot be replaced. Not quickly at least. Not even by the best of friends or family or intentions.
And sometimes that’s why being by yourself is the most tolerable thing. Because sometimes being around other people is just a reminder of how much those people are NOT the person you lost, despite how much support they may provide or how glad you are for their love. On a few occasions I’ve found myself needing to retreat for this very reason.
I have lots of friends. Many very good friends. Friends who listen. Friends who genuinely seek to understand. And I’m so glad and thankful for all of them. But none of them are Suse. They all represent a distinct and devastating lack.
That’s loneliness.
