Your Loneliness Isn't Because You're Alone.

I know, controversial title, but hear me out.

First of all, as a general disclaimer, my experience isn't the experience of depression or loneliness, and many factors can contribute to both, so please take my story with a grain of salt.

As a listener here on Cups, I support members dealing with loneliness a lot. My fellow listeners would agree it's one of the most frequently requested chat topics. I had struggled greatly with loneliness myself throughout elementary and middle school. Being bullied and the resident "weird kid" had left me an outsider without close friends. But by the time freshman year of high school came, I struck gold. I miraculously found my place in an amazing, accepting friend group. With time, I cultivated my identity from being a part of this group. It was then I had my eureka moment regarding loneliness: "There are 8 billion people on this earth that could grow to understand and love me. We've all got to have a place somewhere on this planet." And for a while, that was what I told members who struggled with loneliness: keep waiting, and you will find your place eventually.

And then the impossible happened. After three years of sharing my life with this group, one of my closest friends decided to cut me off because my problems were "too scary" to deal with anymore, and she needed a break from me. This sparked a chain reaction which left me cut off from this group entirely. I felt utterly alone.

In a desperate attempt to find ways to spend the surplus of time I had not hanging out with friends, I turned to reading manga. In this search, I stumbled across My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Nagata Kabi. The quirky title and the suggestive art of naked women on the cover were enough to pique my interest. I began to read:

“I thought that belonging somewhere, having somewhere to go every day = me. I lost the things that had given me shape, and as they disappeared, I felt like I was dissolving into thin air.”

“I’d never understood how people could keep on living. I’d thought that everyone had to be lapping up some sweet nectar I didn’t know about. The last time I’d lived a proper life, in my high school days, my sweet nectar had been my friends and their compliments. I”d thought the only way to be fulfilled was to go back to having friends like that. But I’d found a new sweet nectar. Having something with feedback to write about, having people look at what I draw...I think I know how to fill up my heart now. Transmitting my signal, having people receive it, being recognized by people. I still basically had no friends — I hadn't seen my old ones in years — but I wasn't lonely."