Blog Dis
Are you lonely when you're all alone?
2026-07-23
Not everyone is designed the same way. In fact, we revel in our uniqueness, and what sets us apart from the madding crowd, until we're all alone, and then we're all the same. For when we spend long periods of time alone, a part of ourselves begins to unravel, that part we get to ignore while in the company of others.
There's a poetic side to being alone, to cherish the peace, and the solitude as though it warms you like a goose-filled comforter in the dead of winter. Alone is no different than being alone in your head. Naturally, we have a lot of chatter that goes on, seemingly, non-stop talk in our heads. It disturbs some, and I believe this is why some individuals are forced to cope with levels of depression. They fear being ill-equipped to wrestle with these demons, their inner-thoughts, as well as to grapple with aloneness, to know that the two go hand-in-hand when you're in fact all alone.
A good example of being able to embrace being alone is to watch a movie in a theatre by yourself. I used to have issues with this activity when I was in my early 20s. I grew up with siblings in a small house, all of us sharing one full-bath with our parents. There were rare times when you were alone in the house. By the time I moved out in my late teens, I opted to share a house with three adults (two men/one woman) and again I didn't have many periods of being alone. I'd go to movies with one of my house-mates. This all changed when I moved into my own apartment at the age of 27 years, and I never looked back. It took time to adjust being by myself, to embrace going to the theatre alone. I learned there was an easier way to choose my seat, without having to negotiate with the eccentricities of a friend or family member, and how they didn't like sitting too close or too far from the screen or they objected to my desire to sit at the very edge of a row way at the back vs their preference of sitting smack dab in the middle, which drove me crazy.
Going to a movie by yourself is an awesome form of freedom. You read books alone, unless you're reading to kids, or to your partner, if it's a particularly salacious piece of reading material. You can take walks and head out cycling alone, which is my preference. People are everywhere. People are programmed to invade the spaces of other people. This isn't meant as a criticism, rather an observational comment. People are highly stimulating as well as being highly annoying. And for some, it doesn't matter how many relationships have gone tits up for them, they hate having to navigate as a single individual, so they'll get themselves right back into a new relationship, to avoid being alone. Not me.
The first time I traveled to an exotic country by myself was all the way to India. I was terrified of this choice, though compelled to do so regardless. I pushed myself to overcome this fear. When I returned, I remember a family member noticing how I had 'changed', according to their perspective. I suppose I had changed. When you travel alone, you have to shore up your courage, and take due note of everything and everyone around you. Traveling with buddies can make you somewhat lackadaisical. You'll slip up. Your head is up your a** because you'll be relying on your buddy rather than to fine-tune your senses, the instincts needed to protect yourself. Since that first solo trip, I've made other trips into strange countries by myself, arriving at airports in the dead of night, and making my way to the hotel to check in, after which I'd spend the first couple of days alone, to get my bearings straight, to explore. I would then hook up with a small, low-impact tour group to finish out my adventure, say goodbye at the end, only to have three or four more days by myself in the city to where I had originally arrived. I learned how to blend the best of both worlds; to share my adventures and to satisfy that need for having time alone.
I am in awe of the fearless sailors who venture out onto the choppy waters of the ocean on a sailboat all by themselves, to sail around the world. Many will take a furry companion or end up rescuing one along the way who joins them for the balance of their adventure. There are sailing races around the world that are strictly solo, such as the 'Everest of the Seas', one of the most famous, that begins in France (it's original name is 'Vendée Globe') and it takes place every four years, where sailors race by themselves anywhere from 75 to 110 days alone. Consider that there are 365 days in every year, so 110 days alone is remarkable, given that it's around the world, sailing on the ocean, the most powerful force on the earth. The ocean is essentially designed to kill you. In fact, and based on the stories I've read about sailing around the world, the ocean really does want to kill you.
When you go through a terrible health crisis, you may have a spouse or friends or children who are there for you. This is good. Be grateful. To endure the challenge and whether or not there's a degree of prolonged pain, this I'm afraid must be handled alone by you, and you may need to dig deep to get through it. Know that you will, however. You'll get through it, and your growth as a fearless individual will change you.
I have never feared dying either because I know this is our last journey we take alone. No one can die for you.
When my father died of cancer 32 years ago, I'll never forget that one time when me and my mom, and my siblings surrounded his hospital bed, and how his gaze looked past us, as though there was another person in the room we couldn't see. My dad waved his arms, shooing away an imaginary person, "Go! I don't want you." It was the only time that my father was able to speak, before nearing the end. His cancer started in his throat and migrated to his brain. Throughout his stay in hospital, his senses one by one had shut down, until he reached the stage where his eyelids wouldn't close. This is when hospital staff will refer to this state of being as 'wearing the death mask'. We each will wear one, when our time comes. We each will go through this end time, to face our demise. It broke my heart to watch my Dad and his essence wither away. My siblings and me, to include my mom, traded our nights visiting: one off, one on. This way we could take turns spending time with him. I felt lucky to have had those few moments to be able to sit by his bedside.
Just before he passed, my mom was with him. She said that Dad squeezed her hand one last time, and then he was gone. It still brings tears to my eyes to this day when I think about it, and it also warms my heart to know that he wasn't all alone in the very end.
There's a poetic side to being alone, to cherish the peace, and the solitude as though it warms you like a goose-filled comforter in the dead of winter. Alone is no different than being alone in your head. Naturally, we have a lot of chatter that goes on, seemingly, non-stop talk in our heads. It disturbs some, and I believe this is why some individuals are forced to cope with levels of depression. They fear being ill-equipped to wrestle with these demons, their inner-thoughts, as well as to grapple with aloneness, to know that the two go hand-in-hand when you're in fact all alone.
A good example of being able to embrace being alone is to watch a movie in a theatre by yourself. I used to have issues with this activity when I was in my early 20s. I grew up with siblings in a small house, all of us sharing one full-bath with our parents. There were rare times when you were alone in the house. By the time I moved out in my late teens, I opted to share a house with three adults (two men/one woman) and again I didn't have many periods of being alone. I'd go to movies with one of my house-mates. This all changed when I moved into my own apartment at the age of 27 years, and I never looked back. It took time to adjust being by myself, to embrace going to the theatre alone. I learned there was an easier way to choose my seat, without having to negotiate with the eccentricities of a friend or family member, and how they didn't like sitting too close or too far from the screen or they objected to my desire to sit at the very edge of a row way at the back vs their preference of sitting smack dab in the middle, which drove me crazy.
Going to a movie by yourself is an awesome form of freedom. You read books alone, unless you're reading to kids, or to your partner, if it's a particularly salacious piece of reading material. You can take walks and head out cycling alone, which is my preference. People are everywhere. People are programmed to invade the spaces of other people. This isn't meant as a criticism, rather an observational comment. People are highly stimulating as well as being highly annoying. And for some, it doesn't matter how many relationships have gone tits up for them, they hate having to navigate as a single individual, so they'll get themselves right back into a new relationship, to avoid being alone. Not me.
The first time I traveled to an exotic country by myself was all the way to India. I was terrified of this choice, though compelled to do so regardless. I pushed myself to overcome this fear. When I returned, I remember a family member noticing how I had 'changed', according to their perspective. I suppose I had changed. When you travel alone, you have to shore up your courage, and take due note of everything and everyone around you. Traveling with buddies can make you somewhat lackadaisical. You'll slip up. Your head is up your a** because you'll be relying on your buddy rather than to fine-tune your senses, the instincts needed to protect yourself. Since that first solo trip, I've made other trips into strange countries by myself, arriving at airports in the dead of night, and making my way to the hotel to check in, after which I'd spend the first couple of days alone, to get my bearings straight, to explore. I would then hook up with a small, low-impact tour group to finish out my adventure, say goodbye at the end, only to have three or four more days by myself in the city to where I had originally arrived. I learned how to blend the best of both worlds; to share my adventures and to satisfy that need for having time alone.
I am in awe of the fearless sailors who venture out onto the choppy waters of the ocean on a sailboat all by themselves, to sail around the world. Many will take a furry companion or end up rescuing one along the way who joins them for the balance of their adventure. There are sailing races around the world that are strictly solo, such as the 'Everest of the Seas', one of the most famous, that begins in France (it's original name is 'Vendée Globe') and it takes place every four years, where sailors race by themselves anywhere from 75 to 110 days alone. Consider that there are 365 days in every year, so 110 days alone is remarkable, given that it's around the world, sailing on the ocean, the most powerful force on the earth. The ocean is essentially designed to kill you. In fact, and based on the stories I've read about sailing around the world, the ocean really does want to kill you.
When you go through a terrible health crisis, you may have a spouse or friends or children who are there for you. This is good. Be grateful. To endure the challenge and whether or not there's a degree of prolonged pain, this I'm afraid must be handled alone by you, and you may need to dig deep to get through it. Know that you will, however. You'll get through it, and your growth as a fearless individual will change you.
I have never feared dying either because I know this is our last journey we take alone. No one can die for you.
When my father died of cancer 32 years ago, I'll never forget that one time when me and my mom, and my siblings surrounded his hospital bed, and how his gaze looked past us, as though there was another person in the room we couldn't see. My dad waved his arms, shooing away an imaginary person, "Go! I don't want you." It was the only time that my father was able to speak, before nearing the end. His cancer started in his throat and migrated to his brain. Throughout his stay in hospital, his senses one by one had shut down, until he reached the stage where his eyelids wouldn't close. This is when hospital staff will refer to this state of being as 'wearing the death mask'. We each will wear one, when our time comes. We each will go through this end time, to face our demise. It broke my heart to watch my Dad and his essence wither away. My siblings and me, to include my mom, traded our nights visiting: one off, one on. This way we could take turns spending time with him. I felt lucky to have had those few moments to be able to sit by his bedside.
Just before he passed, my mom was with him. She said that Dad squeezed her hand one last time, and then he was gone. It still brings tears to my eyes to this day when I think about it, and it also warms my heart to know that he wasn't all alone in the very end.
