About loneliness

I drank a little yesterday and didn’t drag myself out of bed until late this morning. I didn’t seem to be in a very good state of mind; I felt wilted all over. The sky has been dark and gloomy all day. Just now, I was heating up my dinner. While I waited for the microwave, I gazed out at the thick darkness beyond the window, and in an instant, my already low mood hit rock bottom. That strange, enormous emptiness that has been pursuing me for so long took over my heart once again. In the past, this emptiness could always defeat me with ease and plunge me into sadness. This time was no different: if the microwave’s timer was accurate, sadness had me in its grip for about two minutes. But then, at some remarkable moment, in a flash, I grasped the source of this emptiness—loneliness. All day, never mind leaving the house, I’d barely even left my room. Apart from exchanging a couple of words with my roommate while cooking, I hadn’t spoken to a living soul. That was what had made my mood suddenly collapse.

At first, my rational mind found it very strange to identify loneliness as the root of my emptiness. Could someone as 90% introverted as me really feel empty because of loneliness? But that was indeed the case. I had to admit it: supremely rational as I am, I could actually feel sad simply because I hadn’t talked to anyone all day. My former self could never have imagined this. I really do know nothing about myself. So let me put aside postmodern doubt and deconstruction for a moment, give my rational faculties a turn, and investigate the roots of loneliness.

To be frank, these days I really enjoy spending time with other people. This comes from my inner desire to open my heart and let others in. In the past, I was painfully aware of how closed off I was, and forced myself to communicate with people. After a long period of practice, I’ve become more open and more at ease. But perhaps I’ve overcorrected a little: I seem to have quietly lost some of my independence. An emotional collapse is a physiological response to going too long without feeling happy, and I can’t help asking myself: does all my happiness now have to depend on other people? Whenever this emptiness appeared before, I would simply seek outward again, building connections with others or with the outside world. This solution was simple and effective, but in turn it made me miss the chance for self-reflection.

A revelation. Really, a revelation. By the time my thoughts reached this point, I had already overcome this emptiness in my mind. In practice, all I need to do is find that feeling of focusing on myself and taking pleasure in it. Finding that feeling is so easy—I’m exceptionally good at it. In this moment, I came to understand loneliness, myself, and other people anew. What a wonderful feeling.

Going forward, I should adjust the balance between seeking outward and seeking inward. No one is an island, and many beautiful things can only be built upon connections between the self and other people or the world. But more importantly, I need to find inner coherence and peace. “When your actions fall short, seek the answer within yourself.” Perhaps it was only just now that I understood what this means.

Knowing yourself really is a lifelong undertaking. At least, over the five, six, seven, or eight years of a PhD, I should have plenty of moments of facing loneliness. I’ll have to keep learning, slowly.