Loneliness Sucks
"Loneliness is something we all feel at some point, but for me, it started earlier than I expected. This blog is my way of letting it all out. Maybe someone out there will relate. Maybe writing it down will help me make sense of it. Either way, here it goes…"
This is going to be my first blog, and I would say it’s mostly like a journal. I want to write to make my words work for me instead of living with all these thoughts that keep me from moving forward. Maybe if I write them down, they’ll stop driving me crazy. Most of what I write here will be confessions—or maybe even embarrassing moments—but hey, who hasn’t had those moments? One would be a hypocrite to say they have none.
I was twelve when I first started feeling alone. I began to see my surroundings as chaotic—but that was just me being a child. I was surrounded by people who were busy making money or at least busy taking care of their own lives. I grew up in a well-off family, and my parents were well-connected—if you know what I mean. Nothing gangster or illegal, just being known in our city because my parents had a booming business. And as the saying goes, money talks. Having wealthy parents meant money did a lot of talking.
I never experienced financial struggles. I grew up with people who worked for my parents—drivers who drove me around, cooks who prepared my meals, and cleaners who kept everything in order. Those years were luxurious; I had everything I could ask for. And yet, I was lonely. I was alone all the time—physically, mentally, and emotionally. I have seven siblings, yet I never had the chance to truly get to know them. Even now, I don’t know if I ever meant anything to them. I’m clueless.
None of us were close—or at least, that’s what I believe. Maybe it was just me feeling this kind of loneliness since I’m the youngest. Like I said, I was always left alone in a big house with the driver, the nanny, the cook, and the relatives who worked for my parents. When I was young, I never experienced a normal life with my siblings. When I say normal, I mean simple things—having casual conversations, sitting together, and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. Instead, every interaction felt like an obligation. There was no sincerity, no moment of being true to yourself. It always seemed like everyone was trying to prove they were better than the other. It’s sad, but honestly, I can’t remember anyone ever teaching me the true meaning of family or making me feel like I belonged.
I was twelve when I started feeling alone—maybe because it was the beginning of my teenage years, and my mind was no longer as innocent as before. I observed, I felt, I discovered, and I questioned—a lot. I had questions that were never answered. Pity, but true.
The worst part about loneliness is that when it kicks in and no one is there to help you figure out why you feel that way, all those why’s get stuck in your mind. There’s no way around them, no way to get past them. So loneliness lingers. And it sucks.
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-to be continued-
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