I'm approaching the twelve month anniversary of my move from San Francisco to Los Angeles. My insides feel as tumultuous now as they did when I tossed a suitcase and a couple grocery bags into my car and drove south. In spite of a few decor acquisitions—a lamp here, an end table there—I don't feel any more at home than I did the day I climbed the steps to the empty apartment for which I'd just signed a lease. If anything, as the one year mark draws near, I feel a rising sense of panic. I wake from nightmares in which I'm tasked with finding something in a big, empty mansion, yet I don't know what to look for. I fight against a shortness of breath like someone is sitting on my chest. I feel achingly, heartbreakingly lonely.
I've alway struggled with loneliness. I don't mean a 'call up a few friends to chase the blues away' loneliness. I mean a profound sense of isolation that confines me to my bed; that wracks me with sobs sent from the pit of my gut to consume me from the inside out; that finds me in a crowded room deaf to everything but my echoing thoughts. It's a self-absorbed, self-induced, self-perpetuated sort of loneliness—because the heavier it grows, the harder it gets for me to push it off and do something about it.
The thing is, I'm tired of trying to do something about it. Tired of showing up at therapy. Tired of risking the whim of fairweather friends. And man alive, am I tired of reading the books. The ones that suggest I never learned to express my emotions or set boundaries in order to feel heard. The ones that claim we are all essentially alone and the sooner we accept that the sooner we'll find peace. The ones that tell me to stay in the now, practice gratitude, feel my feelings. I'm tired of circling endlessly in my own head.
One book, however, has pushed me out of my head and onto paper—a small distance, granted, but a step forward nonetheless. Writing Down Your Soul teaches an approach to journaling that draws out the frightening, audacious things you've been keeping even from yourself. It forces you to ask difficult questions such as 'What am I hiding?' and 'What do I truly want?' It leaves you staring at a page on which you've just written the words, 'I want someone to love me enough to come find me, no matter how hard I hide.'
According to Writing Down Your Soul, I'm not supposed to judge that statement. Which is hard, because wanting someone to come after me seems just as passive and selfish as crying in bed all day. Plus I know without a doubt that I do have people who love me unconditionally. But maybe that's not what I meant when I wrote that. And maybe it wasn't even me who wrote that but rather something deeper, the same something that sends those gut-wrenching sobs up my throat. Maybe it's insisting that I not give up on myself. I don't have an answer yet. So I'm going to keep trying though I'm tired, keep asking questions though I'm afraid, and keep searching though I'm not sure what I'm looking for.
P.S. For our regularly scheduled lifestyle programming, check out my work for Clementine Daily over at Hayneedle today. Sharing ideas for a cheerful attic, a calming patio, and an industrious office. Images, to which there's no rhyme or reason: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.
Your writing is beautiful. I’m sorry to hear about your struggle with loneliness…though it’s something that SO MANY people deal with. I experienced those gut-wrenching sobs just last night, so I get it. Definitely want to check out this book! Wishing you peace, lady!
Wow, that was beautifully intense, it hit deep down, and for me, that’s the only type of writing I care to read! I’m a fellow Angeleno too and I can imagine there must be a lot to miss from S.F. Just know that there’s fellow lost and lonely souls out there in this great awful mess of a city, and I’m one of them.
feel it all and feel it hard. because we are all just worm food. some sooner than others. you’re smarter than most people i suspect and it’s always the hardest for the smart ones.
i think you’re cool and weird.
Hugs
I’ve never commented on your – or really any – blog before, but you captured my feelings perfectly. In that small regard, you are not alone. Or at least, you made me feel a little less alone in my loneliness – for that, thank you.
This is so beautiful. I think we can all relate to those deep, lonely times although it’s not something that’s often talked about openly. I’ll definitely have to pick up that book, it sounds so worth a read.
You will come out of it Dearest wise beautiful Anne. It is most certainly a feeling so many are feeling in this brave new world of overconnected–not so connectedness. Be patient with that YOU that is peeling the layers of onion so when you arrive at your intended destination of dream, it all makes perfect sense. I fought and felt it both, but you are going to a different place than you have been — trust your sweet spirit Girl! This universe loves Anne Sage and is preparing you for your palette of ultimate happiness.
Why is it when there are problems people shove a book at you? It seems to be a trend in my life… When my over active brain follows me into yet another hole I read to get out. Reading this makes me feel less alone. Thank you for being brave, sharing beautiful things and opening up to us.
I really appreciate the high style you share on your blog, but it’s these occasional introspective and painfully honest revelations that keep me subscribed. I love knowing there’s a real person behind this blog.
Thank you for this unexpected
and beautifully written post.
Oh, I’m feeling so similarly and how it hurts. Thank you for putting it into words; I will be thinking of you and this post often.
oh beautiful Annie… I understand. I suspect we’ve all been there to some extent, and I applaud you for being brave enough to share with the group. I, too, have struggled with this for a very long time, even in the warmth of my beautiful family, there it is. Keep on writing, keep on adventuring, and exploring those feelings and their roots. Maybe we’ll get there someday. Until then, know that you are so loved. SO very loved.
I completely understand what you feel, I am in a kind of the same mood since I am working from home as freelance graphic designer and, even though I live with my boyfriend, I spend about 10 hour a day home alone, completely alone.
Sometimes I don’t even want to go out, it takes too much energy…
I love in a constant state of anxiety and I am thinking about therapy.
I fixed some goals into my mind and now I am trying to walk through them. Small steps, one by one.
Anne, you are so very very talented. People tell me that I am an excellent writer, but I ALWAYS feel that I could never match up to your prose.
I am sorry to hear of your struggles.
I am much older than you (52), and can say with the wisdom of years, that you must persist, you must push yourself to be positive. It’s a cliche, but an accurate one, force yourself to smile. It helps. And your first image isn’t random at all– Stay true.
Kind regards,
Lynn from Decor Arts Now
I can relate to that profound loneliness, to not feeling heard or understood. Perhaps this is why we write? We just keep trying.
Hi Anne, you’re the sweetest. Thanks for sharing and being authentic.
Life is change, things will always change, feelings will come and feelings will go. I know you will find space to fill your loneliness with possibilities.
xo, Sadie
Your story is a beautiful one… it is honest and comes from your heart. I have written a few entries on my blog in which I talk openly about my chronic depression. It’s so important to be open and honest about these things…so, while sad, it is also heartwarming. Does that make sense? While I’m sure I am old enough to be your gran, mental and psychological health knows no age barriers. You, my dear are talented at so many things…trust in yourself.
Beautiful post, Anne. It takes some serious courage (or as I like to call it, “ladyballs”) to make such an honest public confession.
You know, I don’t live too far from you and would love a coffee date sometime… xoxo
You are so brave, I hope you find what you are looking for.
I stumbled on your blog by coincidence, but hey will I come back! That could have been my words!
Hugs from Sweden.
Hi Anne, I just came across your blog while researching fashion stuff, and I never expected to read such an honest, and profound admission of loneliness. I feel the same way too…thank you for your inspiration, courage — and book referral. Wishing you lots of peace, love and good old fashioned luck 🙂
I’m sorry to hear you’re suffering. I know that feeling where nothing, nothing, nothing will take you away from the edge of the abyss. I don’t suppose it will help much but you’re not alone. I so admire you and your successful blog. Thank you for being brave and taking the risk to share. Xo
Such a beautifully written post. We live in a time now where you can express these feelings to articulately and make connections with others. Hopefully these comments can bring some comfort.
I have been following you for a while now, and I have never commented before either, rather selfish I know, but I remember you mentioned a while back another book, The Tools, which I bought and have found rather helpful. Is this not the case for you? I hope you find inner peace and some sort of acceptance, if that’s the thing you need. Your blog is so balanced and so rich, I just assumed it was the case inside you too. I know we are made of layers, but you express and curate such a amazing space here.
I’ve been following your blog and for the first time I’m compelled to write a comment. I love revisiting and I study your blogs, your writings to a point now I feel I have a mental image of who you are.
With your heart poured out here, I’m just relieved to learn that you’re real and true with your readers. We all go through tough times in our lives and believe you me this will one day make you stronger.
This is life and it’s experience should be embraced and I honour you for sharing to us and now we feel how real you are and how alike you are. I assure you what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I’m married with two beautiful kids and honestly married life isn’t sweet either and people can feel lonely too. It’s harder once married because children’s needs are being put ahead of ours and I assure you what feeling is good as you’ll know the importance of appreciation when you life changes and believe me it WILL. xx
this hit home so much. I have a group of girlfriends but none that I feel I can fully open to and be myself with. They are fun to hang out with but tend to mock things that they don’t get or think are stupid: art, design, reading, blogging…the things that I enjoy most. So I find myself being “fake” when I hang out. yes it’s fun but I don’t feel like I’ve met MY people, MY tribe, my TRUE friends. Also, several years ago I ended a long term relationship and just can’t seem to get back into the dating pool. The longer it goes, the older I get the lonelier I feel. I guess we’re all looking for the same thing. I hope you find it. I hope I find it.
I felt like that a “life time ago”. It passed. I still have to look out not to fall in the pitt again and stop myself if I start circling in my head. For me It never had to do with others, it is a feeling regardless of others around me.
I felt like I had to comment on this. Anyway:
I wish you all the best..
Congrats for being courageous in walking through the fear. I like playing (spotify) music by Donna De Lory for spiritual kick-in-the-ass awakening when I feel a tad ‘lost’. Hugs from New York!
And now I’m going to kick myself again for not connecting with you at Crafting Community. We’ve got a few things in common, it seems. Though I don’t think I’ve ever been quite this eloquent about explaining that lonely feeling as you have been right here.
Thank you. I’m sure this took some pondering as you decided to press “publish” and I’m so very glad that you did. I hope it was in some ways healing to write.
Off to check out Writing Down Your Soul …
Best wishes,
Kara
I know this feeling. Though it took me a long while to realize I was lonely. I had convinced myself that I was independent, didn’t need people, etc. I realized after the fact that I was lonely, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself; maybe because I thought it would make it harder, maybe because I didn’t know what to do about it, maybe because loneliness seems to carry a stigma. I appreciate your bravery and vulnerability in sharing this.
(Also, that question you wrote down made me cry. I so resonate with that.)
Oh, friend. It’s so hard for me to imagine you lonely, because I always see you surrounded by friends and love. But we all have our quiet, scared moments…maybe there’s some comfort in knowing that?
Keep being brave…I felt like this for a long, long while before my heart settled in to my life. But it did finally settle, and yours will too. You’re on one hell of a journey, my dear – the destination will be so very, very worth any bumps in the road.
xox 🙂