Let’s discuss loneliness.
I resent being a social animal. I resent not being an island. Resent. Resent. Resent.
The spousal unit is a descendent of a failed Empire - Tokyo was once known as Edo (her maiden name was Eddow) - and when her ancestors fell out of favor they had to hightail it to other accommodations. Many changed their surname in subservience to the ruling shogun; others became casualties of Ellis Island anglicizing.
For some time now she has been conducting genealogical research and familiarizing herself with her ancestral language and history. This culminated with a pilgrimage to the old country wherein she visited many shrines, and domiciles associated with her family tree. NHK, Japan's equivalent of CBS, is developing a segment devoted to the homage.
The trip lasted three weeks. She said it exceeded her every expectation and I don’t doubt it. The locals were warm, gracious, and generous of their time and energy. She ate well, did plenty of walking, and learned more about her roots than she could have imagined.
I was ecstatic for her and had encouraged the trip, even as I knew I’d miss her. But as there was no way I was going through the collateral hassles of such travel and travails, I figured I’d do my part by taking care of the house and dogs in her absence, which I did (despite some near disasters relating to forgetting to turn off faucets).
Still, it was three weeks I spent alone. Not alone as in the TV series of the same name, but alone among the natives. The kind of amplifying loneliness normally experienced being among apathetic strangers at a party. The kind that reminds one of one’s every existential insecurity.
Of course, my insinuation into society was not unlike that of conditioner into shampoo: it never quite worked out. Much of this situation has been my own doing, with the three most isolating agents in my life being xenophobia, illnesses, and personality. And just as becoming a good student entailed my leaving school, so does my becoming fit company require my abstaining from it. But unlike the porcupine, I am obliged to adorn myself with deterrent quills and have the only child’s capacity to entertain oneself, a superpower not without its Kryptonite (one doesn’t necessarily learn to play well with others. Hence the name of my second memoir-in-progress).
True. there are those that are provoked that I put the drawbridge - never mind that the deprivation goes both ways - but this makeup lacks its compensations. I have learned to appreciate the mentoring of history’s greatest minds and take advantage of them, their solace sustaining me through many a heartache and preventing others.
Because otherwise I am settled with those who gravitate toward me, a consortium of the walking wounded that inevitably fall to their own injuries. Suicide - both of the piecemeal and arbitrarily sudden variety - has taken most of my friends and loved ones.
Other “friends” proved themselves imposters - or, I as much to them (in any event, neither belabored under any particular delusion to warrant remorse on the back end).
Then there are those I did wrong and wish to god I’d somehow made amends. My failure to do so might have something to do with apologies denied me (that, or cluelessness or cruelty on the part of the transgressors).
In any event, six decades on I have a remarkably nuclear network. Part of me likes it. I humor myself that if it’s true that the strong grow in solitude where the weak wither away, then I am one strong mo-fo.
Still, mine is a double-edged Damocles Sword, wholly complementary of every other duality in my life, that yin-yang crap that takes many forms.
Examples…
I want people on my own terms. People want me on theirs.
Impasse.
I want to be honest with them. My candor, historically, alienates them.
Catch 22.
I want them to be honest with me, then resent them when their beliefs don’t align with mine.
Hypocrisy.
I love the quiet and solitude of the mountains. It’s where I best entertain my tinnitus.
Paradox.
I would like to be liked, but prefer to be known and one precludes the other.
Puzzle.
How easier my life would be with Zen emptiness, Christian forgiveness, or stoic resolve. But even the mending of fences remains an act of partitioning.
Duality.
I resent throwing this shit into an apathetic world even as I sweat it’s being disseminated.
Dissonance.
My voice transcription conspires against me. I tire of reading words like “ship”, “fark”, and “sons of pitches” when they were clearly not the words spoken, or intended.
Irony.
I somehow meandered from loneliness.
A.D.D.
Back on topic…
It's odd admitting to feeling lonely even as you don't recognize a recourse. I don't really want to change anything that ensures my relative autonomy, even as I sure as hell don't want to project myself as a loser (as those not universally beloved somehow equate to such in the minds of some).
Oh, let’s face it; I am.
At least, in some ways.
Lucky in love and lust, I have had more than my fair share of tail. This has proven no small comfort in masturbatory matters.
And I have been fortunate in many an acquisition. And in avoiding pitfalls for as long as I have (or have I been? Really - perhaps it would have been better to have died before and spared oneself all manner of pain and grief later? But I digress. Again).
Still, I get lonely. And that sensation was particularly acute these past three weeks, and gave me new respect for why even hardened sociopaths dread solitary confinement.
The causes of this one’s loneliness are as myriad as the ways it is manifest. The rewiring endured as a half-orphaned infant. The willed ostracism of intimidated peers. The neuroses of one’s addled mind (my brain is compensation for the mind I was given).
But it is there in one’s family tree, too. And like the spousal unit I have done some snooping, too.
My father was an only child (The good things about being an only child: all the toys, all the attention, none of the sharing. The bad: no one to dispel the bullshit, nobody to stand up for you, and no one to blame. The only child mourns alone). And he died a paranoid schizophrenic. At least he had some quality time with his imaginary friend, Tony. His father was an only son, who was killed in a suicidal bar bout of chivalry. And his father killed himself in an insane asylum. All generations of these males were estranged from their sons, as I am mine.
At least that doesn’t factor into the loneliness other than the ensuing bitterness is off putting to others.
Fuckers.
H. L. Mencken once asked, “It is a fine thing to face machine guns for immortality and a medal, but isn't it a fine thing, too, to face calumny, injustice and loneliness for the truth which makes men free?”
Indeed, it is.
But even more often fatal.
Interesting Dean. Sometimes being curmudgeonly is endearing, like British SitCom character Victor Meldrew in One Foot in the Grave, or Basil in Fawlty Towers. As I got older I "lost" my "friends" from my youth and many acquaintances picked up on the way from school, college, workplaces etc, particularly since March 2020. Go figure. Sometimes I wistfully mourn when recalling shared experiences and good times but generally am content in my own company and headspace, a hermit sometimes but, BUT when a new kindred spirit enters my orbit, stimulating and inspiring me to reach out and engage, I go for it. Very rewarding with none of the expectations attached to more kinetic relationships. Many newer acquaintances / friends are virtual, from vastly different backgrounds and geological locations but feel more compatible, genuine, warts and all. Maybe we project onto others based around an ideal and that can make us vulnerable but we subconsciously want that? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
My best friend and former bandmate is my son's Godfather - although we physically meet up rarely, maybe twice a year, we catch up every month for a chat to share news and offload.
Works for us. 45 years and still bonded like brothers who never had sibling rivalry or jealousy. Someone I can seek counsel from if needed in any situation.
They say you can choose your friends but not your family. True.
But I can "adopt" brothers and sisters too.
You'll do mate.