Loneliness

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The Loneliness You Experience With Endometriosis

Loneliness is there in all of us. For all different situations. When you are constantly in pain or ill, it’s a type of loneliness that some people can’t describe. I look around and see so many people my age having the time of their lives. They are getting married, having children, going on holidays and [...]

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Brian Fu

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Depression

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This Common Feeling Is Also My Biggest Trigger for a Depressive Episode

Lately, I’ve been feeling pretty good about myself. Life has been unusually calm and stable. I just graduated from college so I’ve had that as a reason to celebrate. The coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic is lightening a bit (as of the writing of this article), and being fully vaccinated makes me feel safer to be outside. [...]

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Roz Littwin

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Anxiety

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How My Childhood Loneliness Grew Into Anxiety

My childhood home was a desperately lonely place. Feeling alone in a family of five causes an exquisite, agonizingly counter-intuitive kind of emotional pain. I did not feel I was accepted nor belonged. And this set a lifelong pattern of struggling to fit in anywhere, often feeling slightly out-of-place, regularly changing jobs, accommodation and relationships [...]

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MightyTogether 20h

I'm new here!

Hi, my name is bluebird_410. I'm here because I just had something on my heart that I wanted to share. Last March 10, 2025 I was spinning out of control and in the midst of a panic attack, I overdosed. I was on the phone with the suicide hotline unable to breathe, heart racing and shaking half to death. The panic would not stop. It was relentless. I told the person talking to me that I needed to calm down so I took a clonazepam- yes prescribed. It didn’t work. I continued taking them until I had consumed 10. By then the police were at my house along with the paramedics. I was out of it and told them that I had taken 10 pills. I also tried to convey to them the other medicines I was on. During this attempt apparently I said I had taken 8 tramadol. I was trying to tell them I took 2. It was put in my medical records as an opioid overdose with suicidal intent. That was not the case. It was an diazepam accidental overdose. Having this in my medical records has destroyed me because no doctor wants to prescribe decent medications that might work to ease my severe chronic pain, I understand why - their license that they worked so hard for would be on the line. It is sad that no doctor seems to believe in me now and no one will provide me with medicines that work. 7/10 is my daily pain score on just about every day. I remember the medics gave me Narcan and I did not respond. If it was an opioid overdose I would have. Furthermore, I did not want to die. If I had I wouldn’t have been on the phone with the suicide hotline person in the first place. I just wanted the panic to stop and to be able to breathe. Now whenever someone looks at me they see what I did and not who I am. It hurts, the stigma hurts. Instead of trying to help me, everyone judges me. Doctors look at me funny and nurses patronize me. Everyone wants to help in general but the sad reality is no one is there when someone like me comes back out of that rabbit hole. Those who say they want to help should see the person who needs help as a whole person or they will finally succeed in acting out their intent. People like me need a community of love and forgiveness not anger, I don’t have anyone except my husband who helps as much as he can. I am bipolar. I was diagnosed at 12. I am a survivor of severe childhood trauma. I am the child in the book who wore long clothes in the summer to hide the bruises, who didn’t believe in herself because she was told on a daily basis how stupid she was - the one that everyone stayed away from and laughed at because of her smelly hand me down clothes. You probably would have laughed and stayed away yourself. Everyone did. My childhood was lonely. Now I spend many days writhing in agony because I can’t get necessary pain meds because lots of the medical community think I am just out to score. I am not and my proof is I still have a box of tramadol a year and a half later. I would not still have these medications if I was an addict. I use them sparingly and am terrified about what I will have to endure when they run out. I have been judged, found wanting and abandoned. I know the inability to get necessary pain medications is my fault, but the failure of others to listen and take the time to really see me is not. I have decided to share this deeply personal moment in my life because I want to advocate for those who are mentally ill. My bipolar disorder is part of what makes me who I am. I have bad days - really bad days and I have good ones. My new primary care doctor is trying to get my medications straight. For 20 years I was so heavily drugged I was not myself and drug interactions existed from doctors carelessly prescribing drugs without taking the time to look at the other medications I was on. I left my psychiatrist for this reason and I am actively seeking a new one - one who doesn’t violate HIPPA by talking so loudly about me that I can hear him in the halls while waiting for my turn to see him in an empty room. I am not the only patient he talks or complains about either. I am seriously considering TMS to rewire my brain and fight the depression and fight my fibromyalgia. My POTS and malabsorption syndrome I guess I will just have to live with forever. Chronic illness is no joke. I am not looking for anything except support. Please see past the stigma. Please help those who fight mental illness everyday without pointing the finger and laughing at who they are. I hope as a community we can stand together and educate bringing awareness about those who are different and ways to meet those individuals needs. Being me is tough but I wouldn’t trade being me for all the world. Thanks for reading and God bless. If anyone reading has thoughts of self harm please call the suicide hotline or get help. I may live with stigma but at least I will get to see another day. Thank you.

#MightyTogether #Anxiety #Depression #BipolarDisorder #Migraine #Fibromyalgia #PTSD

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vkings

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@vkings

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It wasn’t panic disorder. My nervous system was just starving for biological safety

Hello everyone. I’m new here, and I’d like to share my personal story along with some insights I gained regarding the toll of extreme loneliness and isolation.

I’m a 37-year-old man. Ever since graduating from college, my naturally introverted and reserved nature caused me to gradually drift apart from friends, classmates, and family. For years, I lived a life of total solitude. My routine was a monotonous, unvarying loop: work → play video games → sleep → repeat. I had no circle of friends, no dating life, no social gatherings, and no family living with me. I didn’t even have a pet. The only signs of life in my apartment were myself and two potted plants. While there was little pressure, there was also zero novelty. That was my life for over a decade. But that’s just the backdrop.

What I really want to share happened one night last year. In the middle of the night, completely out of the blue, a wave of intense panic washed over me. My heart began racing uncontrollably, followed by sudden dizziness and numbness in my hands and feet. In that terrifying moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of impending doom—I genuinely believed I was dying. Scared out of my mind, I somehow managed to stumble downstairs, reached out to my family, and rushed to the hospital. After running tests, the doctor told me that physically, there was nothing wrong with me; it was likely somatic symptoms triggered by acute anxiety.

That night was the catalyst that led me down the rabbit hole of learning about anxiety, panic disorder, and depression. I researched extensively online and tried various rehabilitation and coping techniques: exercising, facing my fears head-on, and constantly using positive self-talk to convince myself that nothing was truly wrong. None of it worked. Honestly, that period was pure agony. My symptoms never appeared during the daytime. But as midnight approached, my body would involuntarily spiral into palpitations and dread. Sleep became impossible. I had to force myself out onto the cold, empty streets, walking until sheer exhaustion took over, often returning only as dawn began to break. Only when completely drained could I catch a few hours of sleep.

I had exhausted every form of psychological reframing. Then, I decided to adopt a dog—and almost immediately, my symptoms disappeared. A debilitating condition that had tormented me for over a year was resolved with surprising simplicity.

Here is what I came to understand about my symptoms, which I hope might offer some clarity to anyone enduring a similar struggle:

First, let me ask: Do you think fear is just an emotion that can simply be conquered through willpower? In my view, while fear is categorized as an emotion, it isn't something we can consciously control—just as we cannot consciously dictate our heartbeat or digestion. You can give yourself all the logical reassurance in the world, but your autonomic nervous system doesn't listen to logic. The threat signal still fires, and your nerves still register dread.

The true root of my illness was a profound deficit of safety.

Humans evolved as tribal, social creatures. Yet for 12 years, I lived in total isolation within a silent apartment, going completely against our evolutionary wiring. Ultimately, I couldn't outsmart what is written into our DNA. Primitive instinct dictates that we need connection. To stop suffering, our biological need for felt safety must be met through companionship.

Think about it: living alone in the quiet of midnight, even the sound of a dropped needle would startle me awake, and by day, I had to brace myself for work. For years, my nervous system had been locked in a perpetual state of hypervigilance—an unrelenting "fight-or-flight" mode with no respite. Eventually, the tightly wound string snapped. My adrenaline surged uncontrollably like a broken dam, leaving me with the terrifying sensation that I was dying.

Once I brought a dog home, everything shifted. At night, I let him roam freely around the house. When a floorboard creaks or a small noise breaks the silence, I no longer need conscious self-talk to calm down. Instinctively, my brain knows: My companion is here, watching over our space. That primal need for safety is finally satisfied. My nervous system switches from hyper-alert to rest-and-digest; adrenaline levels normalize; and I can finally sleep peacefully. No midnight panic. No more mental torment.

To anyone experiencing similar physical and somatic symptoms:

When your body starts manifesting intense physical distress that mimics anxiety or depression, don't rush to label yourself with a clinical disorder right away. Take a moment to examine your environment first: Could you, like me, be suffering from a severe lack of psychological safety brought on by chronic loneliness and isolation?

The somatic manifestations of profound isolation, panic, and early-stage depression can look virtually identical. In brief clinical consultations, even seasoned professionals might not catch the distinction, simply because they don't see the day-to-day reality of your isolated living environment.

If your symptoms stem from isolation and a lack of safety, the remedy can be far more straightforward than you think—sometimes, the right companionship is the missing piece. Conversely, severe clinical anxiety and depression often require formal medical treatment and pharmaceuticals. Taking the time to understand your lifestyle and need for safety can help you identify the true root cause and avoid being misdirected on your path to recovery.

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MentalHealthAwareness 3d

Moving across states for family left me homeless, isolated, and completely unsupported

Hi everyone, I really just need a safe space to vent and maybe hear from others who understand what it's like to feel totally alone.

The last six months have been the hardest of my life. I am currently experiencing homelessness and living out of my car. I made the move to get a fresh start, but the main reason I moved was to be closer to my family, especially my mom.

Before I moved, she told me she had a job and a place lined up for me. None of that happened; those plans completely fell through. Instead of helping me figure it out, she left me to sleep in my car.

To make matters worse, I rely on her for my employee hotel discount when I can afford to pay for a room. But she constantly puts it off until the very last minute, waiting until the hotel is completely booked out, which forces me back into my car. When I get anxious and keep asking her for updates ("Is it done yet?"), she gets upset with me. But if I don't ask, it simply doesn't happen.

We used to have such a close relationship and fun car rides together. Now, she barely speaks to me when we're in the car, and I have no one else to talk to or socialize with since I'm isolated out here. When I am in a severe mental health crisis and overwhelmed from living in my car, I eventually snapped on her once. Now, she treats me like an absolute burden, says I'm mentally abusing her, and blames me for moving out here in the first place, even though I came here for her.

I feel so placed on the back burner, like my safety and urgency don't matter at all, and I wish so badly that I didn't need her help or support. It hurts so much to feel like your own mother wants nothing to do with you.

If anyone has been through family betrayal, housing instability, or just knows how to cope with this deep kind of loneliness, I could really use a kind word or advice right now. Thanks for listening.

#MentalHealthSupport #MentalHealthAwareness #Loneliness #Burnout

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Shradha_123

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@shradha_123

Are there other people like me?

Hello! I am new here, post kidney transplant - it has been a long, hectic ride. I don't understand what or how to deal with this. What are you guys doing?

When I heard about Selena Gomez's Transplant, I felt a little less lonely. I wonder if meeting more people like me would make me feel better about the situation?

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Nipe

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@nipe

MightyTogether 3d

I'm new here!

Hi, my name is Nipe. I'm here because I have Chronic Fatigue, POTS, Immune issues, and severe depression. I'm isolated because of my health. I can't keep up with the things I need to do and the loneliness is unbearable. I am in deep despair. My 2 dogs are about all that keeps me living in this hell. I am on antidepressants and have a therapist.my partner is not helpful and is self absorbed.

#MightyTogether #Depression #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Migraine #PTSD #OCD #Grief

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closetedrainbow

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@closetedrainbow

MightyTogether 3d

I'm new here!

Hi, my name is closetedrainbow. I want to befriend fellow LGBTQIA+ individuals anonymously online. I live in a conservative country and sometimes feel rather lonely/alone in the sense that I've got no confidantes to chat freely with, about being LGBTQIA+. I'm also a practicing Buddhist who's trying to live more mindfully and compassionately, though self-compassion is difficult.

#MightyTogether

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Compassionate Cheetah

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@compassionatecheetah

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#MentalHealth #Grief #Loneliness

I struggle with loneliness. I have faced trauma, and I'm trying to be strong in a hostile environment.

It hurts me to see so many people struggling with many kinds of things. Nobody deserves this kind of pain. I just hope whoever is reading this... I know you guys are doing your best even when life is trying to break you apart... I know your circumstances are probably against you, and everything just seems dark...

One thing I have learned in my life is that...when you look for beauty in something...even in all those broken areas...you will find it.

Maybe you are meant to be a wildflower in a graveyard.
Maybe you are the desert rose that bloomed anyway despite whatever you had to face.
Sometimes, it is about being proud of who you have become after what you had to go through.
Sometimes, it is about looking at yourself and smiling because even when the world gave you every reason to fall..
You smiled through the tears and fought anyway.
You are not broken.
You are the phoenix that rose from the ashes.