A little over a year ago, early in our state’s lockdown, I watched one of my children crumble into a million pieces. She’d held up okay until then. We’d done a lot of family walks, and my kids were still enjoying the novelty of the puppy we’d adopted shortly before Covid became more than a passing mention in the U.S. news. But it was never going to last. “I miss her
Two things: there's nothing lonelier than living in a household with kids and a husband but feeling along. I was intrigued by and keened toward the idea that there is nothing wrong with being lonely but that it's a "specific evolved response." The other is that when the internet/social media became so big, so widespread, it was a godsend to those of us in the disability community -- the the caregivers of the disabled, as well. The connections forged were profound. Sometimes, these analyses of the internet, of social media, are weirdly ableist. I was the co-host of a podcast for a while that interviewed and shared conversation with caregivers of children and young adults with disabilities -- some were quite well-known and others lived extraordinary, ordinary lives. One common thread for nearly every single parent was the power of the internet and social media and its positive influence in their lives, connecting to others. As a young mother in 1995, when my own daughter was diagnosed, I had no one -- I was effectively isolated from anyone who shared my experience. It's astonishing to me how support for families grew so organically on social media -- and it's rarely discussed which, ironically, makes us feel lonely. Such a great post, Antonia. Thank you.
Another powerful column, it has taken me some time to absorb it, and reflect on my own situation - thank you! And did not know about Forward Montana, that's cooL! Have a great weekend.
This is hitting me so hard that I can only read 2 paragraphs at a time and then I need to take a break. I am so lonely. My husband never stopped working out of the home and the kids have been back at school since January. I am working from home and I have a text group of coworkers that gives me life. And I am still lonely. And planning social interaction feels like so much work.
I love every bit of this. And yet, as a person often reciting the mantra of "You're not alone" to others, does it really help? I know others feel the way I do. It doesn't help. Most people don't have time to be any kind of community, online/social media doesn't really work for me, and I usually just kind of shrug and mutter, "Sucks to be us."
Every piece of this was powerful (and shout out to Forward Montana!). The vignette from your college graduation party stuck with me the most (and this line in particular): "Leaving a crowd or a gathering of people whose company I enjoyed, telling myself nobody would miss me, was probably a subconscious pre-emptive defensive maneuver against feeling rejected and left out."
In a world where disconnection is the norm, steps towards connection and community (even safe communities) feel risky... they feel like rejection is possible. What if we were so used to being able to lean on community that we didn't have to voluntarily opt-out of it b/c of fear of rejection?
This is a lovely analysis of a pressing problem. There’s power in learning you’re not the only person feeling alone. That power isn’t quite togetherness or community, but it can be sanity and a saving grace. I needed this! Though the pandemic is wrapping up, I’m feeling more lonely day by day. We’re not back to normal and I deeply resent technology. Thank you for writing this!
Two things: there's nothing lonelier than living in a household with kids and a husband but feeling along. I was intrigued by and keened toward the idea that there is nothing wrong with being lonely but that it's a "specific evolved response." The other is that when the internet/social media became so big, so widespread, it was a godsend to those of us in the disability community -- the the caregivers of the disabled, as well. The connections forged were profound. Sometimes, these analyses of the internet, of social media, are weirdly ableist. I was the co-host of a podcast for a while that interviewed and shared conversation with caregivers of children and young adults with disabilities -- some were quite well-known and others lived extraordinary, ordinary lives. One common thread for nearly every single parent was the power of the internet and social media and its positive influence in their lives, connecting to others. As a young mother in 1995, when my own daughter was diagnosed, I had no one -- I was effectively isolated from anyone who shared my experience. It's astonishing to me how support for families grew so organically on social media -- and it's rarely discussed which, ironically, makes us feel lonely. Such a great post, Antonia. Thank you.
Another powerful column, it has taken me some time to absorb it, and reflect on my own situation - thank you! And did not know about Forward Montana, that's cooL! Have a great weekend.
This is hitting me so hard that I can only read 2 paragraphs at a time and then I need to take a break. I am so lonely. My husband never stopped working out of the home and the kids have been back at school since January. I am working from home and I have a text group of coworkers that gives me life. And I am still lonely. And planning social interaction feels like so much work.
I love every bit of this. And yet, as a person often reciting the mantra of "You're not alone" to others, does it really help? I know others feel the way I do. It doesn't help. Most people don't have time to be any kind of community, online/social media doesn't really work for me, and I usually just kind of shrug and mutter, "Sucks to be us."
Every piece of this was powerful (and shout out to Forward Montana!). The vignette from your college graduation party stuck with me the most (and this line in particular): "Leaving a crowd or a gathering of people whose company I enjoyed, telling myself nobody would miss me, was probably a subconscious pre-emptive defensive maneuver against feeling rejected and left out."
In a world where disconnection is the norm, steps towards connection and community (even safe communities) feel risky... they feel like rejection is possible. What if we were so used to being able to lean on community that we didn't have to voluntarily opt-out of it b/c of fear of rejection?
This is a lovely analysis of a pressing problem. There’s power in learning you’re not the only person feeling alone. That power isn’t quite togetherness or community, but it can be sanity and a saving grace. I needed this! Though the pandemic is wrapping up, I’m feeling more lonely day by day. We’re not back to normal and I deeply resent technology. Thank you for writing this!