Sick Sad Girlz on Loneliness
You asked us: I’m feeling extremely lonely at the moment. Hate how dependent I am on meds. Any advice?
Every day we put on our silly little outfits and take our silly little meds... except some days we don’t; some days we miss a dose or accidentally double up or feel like spilling all our pills and potions down the sink; sometimes we’re too sick or too sad or just not bothered to deal with existence. It’s frustrating and unmanageable and can leave us feeling like we’re the only ones that can’t seem to figure it out.
On a long list of things people don’t tell you upon entry into Sick Sad Girl World, underlined and in bright pink capital letters is the loneliness and isolation that can exist here. Acceptance around where we are physically, mentally and spiritually takes time and practice, but even after we’ve allowed ourselves that grace, there’s still no guarantee that others are going to follow suit. Bless them for trying, but even with a caring and loving support system, there are certain things that civilians (our loving name for non-SSG folk) fail to understand on an empirical level, and the unintentional alienation that follows is a hard one to grapple with. Explaining ourselves constantly is exhausting. When we’re in our space, at our most comfortable with the people we love, there is very little that can fuck with our vibe, but drop us at the function with a bunch of people who don’t know the ins and outs of our SSG status and all of a sudden we’re giving anxious-guy-in-the-corner-of-the-party meme thinking “they don’t know I’m a Sick Sad Girl”. Sometimes being in a room full of people who don’t get it is the worst type of lonely. Preserve that energy. Spending so much time getting a handle on our sickness and sadness solo, it can be tempting to launch ourselves into the deep end of human connection and surround ourselves with people and stimuli and excitement, but if you’re not feeling seen or heard, loneliness isn’t going to be solved by being in a room full of noise. In fact, it might exacerbate it.
___STEADY_PAYWALL___
These situations can leave us feeling like we’re the only girlz in the world, and not in a vibey Rihanna sense, in a terminal uniqueness kind of way. Terminal uniqueness is a thing you might be familiar with if you’re a SSG in recovery (Rosa is a 13 years sober babe !! ), but we’ve adapted our own meaning because it aligns so well with feelings around Sick-Sadness. The notion of personal exceptionalism can feel like a hug around those “you wouldn’t understand if you tried” feelings. It's the guy who says “you’re not a normal girl”. One part of us wants to knock him out, but another part of us goes “so u think I'm special?” (lol but really, fuck that guy). Ultimately, that terminal uniqueness gets lonely and can stop us from connecting with our deeper truths and miss out on people who help us see that it’s not just us, someone has been here before and they know the way out.
And don’t get us wrong, we love our alone time, and when existence can be incredibly taxing, retreating into our bedrooms or onto the sofa can provide the respite we need to disengage, reflect, and recharge our social battery…but of course, we all know that there’s a difference between being alone, and being lonely. Ever wanted to tra la la down to your local woodlands / cavern / deep dark hole and scream as loud as you can? Maybe it’s just us, but we feel like the best part of that fantasy is that the abyss doesn’t yell back. Sometimes looking for understanding and acceptance in other people is difficult because we’re in search of something that there’s no warrantee around. We could get a response we don’t like, or our words could completely wash over them, and in moments of extreme vulnerability, it’s enough to make us want to run back to that deep dark hole from before and hide inside it. This is why we think it can be useful to find a vessel in a more controlled setting.
We’re therapy girlz, and we encourage anyone who is willing: give it a go - whatever type suits your vibe. If you’re not quite ready for that though, (or even want to do the two in tandem,) journalling might be for you. We know, it’s very “that girl” to be like “we wake up at 4:30, eat our pre-made overnight oats and journal for 3 hours before hitting the gym”, but that’s absolutely not what we’re getting at. A journal can be your abyss to shout into when it feels like no one understands. The ability to say it out loud or write it down can offer its own release, and reading and reflecting what we’ve written has often unlocked compassion for our former selves (even if that former self is just from earlier that day). Loneliness can be felt internally just as much as it’s affected by external factors, so being able to check in with ourselves is a good place to start.
But all of this brings us to why we think community is so important. Listen, we’re not here to encourage trauma bonding, but we do think it’s crucial to find people who understand the not so shiny parts of life that you’re dealing with. Understanding the difference between competing for gold in the struggle olympics, and the reciprocity of being held/holding space in any relationship, will serve you in finding the people you feel comfortable being your authentic self around. We want someone who can lament with us and wax lyrical about the absurdity of life, without dragging us too far into the wallowing pity-party we’re trying to escape from (a little pity-partying followed by some deep sighs and some ‘what the fuck’s is fully encouraged though. Meet yourself where you’re at.) You’re sick of taking meds? We know that feeling. Lonely? Hungry? Horny? All of the above. Sick Sad Girlz in a lot of ways has taught us the power of coming together in our loneliness. There’s something about the collective nature of being othered that draws us all together, regardless of our identities, ailments or conditionals. The facts may be different, but what binds us are the inherent feelings that come with being an SSG in the world. Hearing someone speak out loud the thoughts that were in your head is just another way to say “I see you, I hear you, and I understand”. Through sharing our experiences, not only do we unburden ourselves from the weight of suffering alone, but most likely, we’re also making someone else feel a little less lonely.
Love you, mean it,
