Loneliness


Abigail: "On paper, my life was perfect. But I felt hopeless and alone."

I never know how to start my story. ‘Once upon a time’ doesn't quite cut it. Maybe it would be best if I just jumped right in. When you're bursting into tears multiple times a day for no apparent reason, I think it's safe to say that there's probably a problem. Well, that was me. I'd been working as a pharmacist down in Devon for nearly three years. Being a pharmacist is an incredibly high-pressure job. If I made a mistake I could, potentially, kill someone. If any of you watched the recent expose on Boots pharmacists and the pressures they face daily, then maybe you'll understand. I loved working with the patients, solving their problems and generally helping them to improve their health. But the understaffing and corporate pressures to hit targets took their toll.

To be fair, I can't blame the job entirely. I wasn't happy with my life as a whole. I had this deep-rooted feeling that I wasn't working towards anything. Oh sure, I was smashing targets in work and a promotion was offered, but it wasn't what I wanted. What was I doing with my life? Meanwhile, every week I made up prescriptions for my fellow pharmacists and co-workers who were all on anti-depressants. It seemed like there was a common link. I saw my future before me and I wanted to change it.

But I should have been happy, right? I had a "great" job. I made a very good wage. I had a pretty good relationship. I loved my co-workers. I lived in a gorgeous apartment by the sea. On paper, my life was perfect. But I felt hopeless, alone and full of despair.

It was like there was a darkness following me that I could only just see out of the corner of my eye. But, if I stood still for a second, it would devour me.

I cried every day in work. It could be a rude customer, a high-pressure prescription or a cross word from a colleague. Absolutely anything would set me off. I'd come home from a day at work and sit in the shower howling, crying until I was hoarse. I went to bed too early and had to drag myself out of bed in the mornings.

One day after work I needed to go to the local shop to get some bread. It was about a three-minute walk from my apartment. I was already crying as I started walking. I was absolutely exhausted. My legs felt like sandbags. As I passed a coffee shop a tidal wave of despair rolled over me and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the street and sleep forever. I never ever thought about killing myself but, at that point, I wanted to sleep and never wake up. That scared me.

I sat on a bench nearby, sobbing. And I never made it to the shop. My family had no idea what was going on. My mother first noticed when she came to visit me in Devon and I burst into tears when she was about to leave. I've never been the homesick type. But I was so scared of being alone that I ran out after her as she was about to pull away in her car. I was in hysterics.

That's when she realised that I was having problems and we started to talk about a solution. Originally she kept trying to "fix" me, suggesting different jobs and re-training. But eventually, she just stood by me as I made my own decision about how I was going to save myself.

One morning, my manager took me to one side and asked me if I had spoken to my doctor. But, at that point, I had already started to form a plan. I couldn't stay there. I needed to change everything, to overhaul my life. I was worried that my life might depend on it. So I handed in my notice, broke up with boyfriend, bought a round the world ticket and started to get rid of pretty much everything I owned.

It didn't fix anything at the time. I didn't suddenly feel hopeful. I was still crying daily. But I felt more in control. I felt like I was moving towards something - like I was changing my life. The main part of my change was existential therapy though, working through my hard and difficult existential loneliness.

I've learnt to give myself that one bad day and to have faith that the next day will be OK. I can confidently say now that the good days massively outweigh the bad ones.

People often tell me that I was brave to do what I did. But I don't really see it like that. I was just desperate. Desperate to help myself. Desperate to change my life. I did what I had to do. In my mind, there was no other option. Now I know through therapy there are always options. Just hidden ones or as my therapist likes to put it, “ones I’m hiding from”.

If you resonate with Abigail’s story and are wanting to unravel any of these issues, know that help is out there. If you’re ready, you can start your therapy journey by simply contacting progressiveprocess@live.com.au or by clicking here.

Becky: "Loneliness helped me find my inner strength"

“I feel so alone.” I can’t remember how many times those words crossed my mind whilst at university. More times than I have fingers, that is for sure.

I was living in an exciting, new city. I was studying a subject I was passionate about with like-minded people. I was enjoying nights out with new-found friends. They’re just a few things that are sold to us as part and parcel of the ‘university experience’. And, whilst that’s certainly true of my own experience, it wasn’t always plain sailing.

During my first year, I entered into a long-distance relationship. If you’ve been in one, you might empathise with the huge highs and lows that this can bring with it. At times, it was really tough. I knew my pain would be short-lived - all I had to do was wait a few weeks until the holidays, and we’d be reunited. But, when you miss a person with every bone in your body, a few weeks is a long old time.

Couple that with living with people who (contrary to what you first thought), aren’t exactly on the same page as you, it’s a recipe for isolation. Perhaps the underlying problem was that I’ve always struggled with confidence. I was bullied on and off throughout my school years, and I think, even now, I’m still battling the effects of it. Maybe, if I’d had a bit more confidence, I would have put myself out there a bit more; signed up for sports teams, societies or clubs. Maybe I’d have connected with people to take my mind off my heartache and to provide the comfort and support I so desperately wanted. But, that’s just not how it happened.

I retreated into myself, as I always had done when times got a bit tough. I’ve learnt to handle things much better since then. You see, I think there’s a fine line between loving your own company and spending too much time on your own. As a self-proclaimed introverted extrovert, I love spending time in other people’s company, but it’s time on my own that I need to re-energise and reset myself. I’m not backwards in coming forward about that either - I am more than happy to say no to a social occasion if I know I really don’t want to go. But, I recognise that this isn’t always the best way to start new friendships.

My second year at university was one of the most miserable years of my life. Honestly, to this day, I’m not sure how I didn’t pack it all in. I lost my engagement for my studies, so even my course that I had loved, wasn’t providing me with any solace to my loneliness.

My internal struggles started to affect my physical health, too. I ended up in a horrible spiral. I couldn’t see the point in cooking a meal for one so, often, I wouldn’t. My weight plummeted. I was crying myself to sleep. I was counting down the days until the end of each term.

Then, something happened. A new group dance class was starting at my uni gym and, in a moment of desperation, I put my name down. I’d always loved dancing as a child and I needed to feel passion for something again. This was my turning point - and I think it was the best thing I’ve ever done. I felt alive. I invited a couple of the girls from my course and we started going together, so it turned into a social thing too.

With better friendships forming with my course mates, I began feeling more engaged with my studies again. I was feeling happier in myself and I also started living with my best friend, so my home life was better by this point, too. It really was like a domino effect. The long-distance thing was still hard, but not as hard as before. I felt more secure in myself and was much less reliant on my other half for reassurance. I found the strength to throw myself into my studies and really enjoy my final year at university. Of course, there were still moments when I felt lonely, but they were few and far between.

I now live five minutes away from my boyfriend and I dance three times a week. Dancing has been a huge part of my personal journey - and the people I’ve met through doing it have been more of a support than they’ll probably ever know.

I think there’s a huge misconception about loneliness. We tend to have this idea that it's something that affects us later on in life but, as with any mental health condition, it can take hold of you whatever age you are. And, there’s no shame in it either.

My university experience may not have been all I’d expected it to be, but I’m glad I went through it - it helped me to find my inner strength.

If you resonate with Becky’s story and are wanting to unravel any of these issues, know that help is out there. If you’re ready, you can start your therapy journey by simply contacting progressiveprocess@live.com.au or by clicking here.