Loneliness is drowning in a sea or being lost in a crowd of people ‘your so-called friends’; it is believing that you are worthless to anyone or anything. Loneliness is misfortune; it’s hardship and heartbreak. Loneliness is terror; there’s no freedom to it. Loneliness is infinite wonder about infinite wondering. Loneliness is an awful paradox.
High school, it’s a time of laughter, fun, and of course stress; lots of it. It’s a time you spend with your friends. I have a lot of friends at school. I guess I am lucky. I have more friends today than many people have in their entire lives. I am truly blessed. However, what I realized is none of them are ‘real friends.’ I have friends that I talk to, sit with, and associate with but when I come to think about it, I have no one who cares.
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School hasn’t always been like this, I have made some great friends and made unforgettable memories over the years, and friendships I will always treasure. Tears of laughter have run down my face many times. Life was great. My education began at a small rural school in the Gold Coast Hinterland, I loved it there – the teachers were whole-hearted, the students were caring for one other, and of course, the fact it was so close to home. Then came what I would still consider one of the worst days of my life. My mum abruptly tore my world apart by relocating our family to a new home far from my comfortable surroundings. I felt my whole life flash before my eyes.
This was the first time in my life that I had felt alone and that no one cared. Little 11-year-old Rehym was leaving what felt like home where everyone and everything that I once loved and cared for was for a new Catholic School in the Sunshine Coast, a school I had no interest in going to. I was leaving the known territory, territory I only knew, moving to an unknown town and an unknown school, a whole new world for the young girl I was at the time. I mean how much worse could it get for an 11-year-old girl? I was saying goodbye to people who I had either grown up with or those who had seen me grow up throughout my young and innocent years. They were people and friends who knew and understood me. However, now as I reflect, I realize that every single one of them had their impressions and beliefs on how I should have felt. Excitement, happiness, laughter, sadness, and regret were some of the most popular feelings however none of them knew what I was feeling. I felt all these feelings at once as if they were all blended…. a feeling I couldn’t even describe on paper.
That brings me to my present time, high school, where my loneliness grew even more. Little didn’t know that her big move to the Sunshine Coast was only the beginning of my loneliness. As the black plague grew, my loneliness grew, eventually following me into my next chapter of adolescence. However, high school brought a different kind of loneliness. It was no longer the kind of loneliness where I knew no one and was alone, it was the kind of loneliness where although I knew people and had friends surrounding me in class and at lunchtime I was still alone.
If there’s one thing high school has taught me in the broader sense it’s that, just because you have known someone almost your whole life, doesn’t mean they will always be there for you; in your times of need or darkness. They would rather stop speaking to you than apologize when they have selflessly hurt you, which can last days, weeks, and sometimes months.
Lunch times…. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a buzzing city, observing people rush by without feeling like I’m even remotely connected to them. I’m constantly surrounded by people who never truly understand me, people who will never come to terms with the fears and deep thoughts that tug ever so roughly at my heart. It’s not that they don’t care about me, it’s simply the feeling that they will never understand me, no matter how much I explain to them. I sit with my friends at lunch. I smile so people think I’m enjoying myself. Occasionally I will go to a tuckshop and buy a popper, so I have something to do with my hands, so it doesn’t look like a complete downer or a killjoy.
I guess I like being alone. I like drinking coffee alone and eating alone. walking alone and driving home alone. I like sitting in my room alone and listening to music alone. I like xx and xxx. But it’s moments when I see a child reach for their mother’s hand, or a couple engrossed in each other’s presence, or two friends contagiously laughing at the stupidest of things, I realize that although I like being alone doesn’t mean I worship being lonely.
Loneliness has eaten me alive over my high school time starting that very day my mum told me about the move, swallowing every ounce of courage I yet had to spare. It took my heart and everything I once held so deeply into its claws and selfishly squeezed out every bit of life I had circulating through my veins. The loneliness I encountered wished and craved for me to suffer for what felt like a lifetime without any gentle yet fierce strong hands to grip me or any shoulder to cry on in my times of need and despair.
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