It is the feeling of being without companionship. It is the feeling of solitude in a negative way. But to me, loneliness is much more. It is the feeling of being, simply, alone in the world. The irony of this is that there are at least 6 billion people in the world.
Why am I even discussing this? There are a lot of timelier issues out there: same-sex marriage, AIDS, racism, homelessness, cancer, etc. But believe it or not, loneliness is an even timelier issue than ever before. Despite all the advances that the LGBT community has had since the Stonewall riots (or even the Compton's Cafeteria riots before), there are still plenty of people who suffer from loneliness. And it is high time that we discuss this openly.
I suppose you are wondering what do I have to do with this? Well, let me put it to you this way: I know more about it than most people will care to admit. You see, I suffer from loneliness. I have been lonely for most of my entire life. And in the past few years, my loneliness has deepened to crisis levels. To get a better idea of what I am talking about, let me tell you a little bit about my life.
I grew up in a working-class family, the son of Filipino immigrants. I was the middle child in my immediate family, and from that moment, I had to compete with my elder and younger brothers for the attention of my harried parents. When my numerous stepsiblings moved to America in 1989, I was relegated to a footnote.
As if that weren't enough, I was deeply unpopular at school. I was the geek. I didn't have a single ally. The students, the teachers, and the administration seemed to have this unholy vendetta against me. None of my siblings supported me, and they were even my worst enemies in school.
When I moved to San Francisco in 1994, I was lonelier than ever. I was thrown into the bitter environment of middle school, and I was also questioning my sexuality. When I came out in 1996, my family reacted with anger and disgust. The irony is that I had a gay stepbrother, and he was no help at all. So I had no allies at home, and none at school. This led me to my first nervous breakdown.
I entered high school shortly after that, and none of my middle school classmates joined me at International Studies Academy. I was the lone gay student of note there, and for four years I struggled just to make passing grades and to make friends. At the same time, I started going to the Lavender Youth Recreation and Information Center. I expected to find a safe haven, but instead I found people who ostracized me even more than in school. I am an "in-the-middle" gay man. I am not effeminate, but I am not butch either. It was supposed to help me deal with life. Instead, it made me even angrier at life.
I went to City College in 2000. Academically, I flourished there. I eventually got an associate of arts degree with honors, the first American college degree in my family. But on a personal level, I felt even more alone. In class, my intelligence seemed to make people hate me. To make matters worse, my family decided to move back to Vallejo in 2003. I would continue my education at City College, but I would be moving back to the place where my loneliness started.
I have now been living in Vallejo for two years. I live with my family, who have resented me more than ever because of what I want to do with my life: become a writer. My classmates have moved on with their lives, and I have concluded that of those who were nice to me, all of them seemed to be so out of guilt or moral responsibility rather than out of genuine liking and caring for me.
I don't have anyone to talk to. Kaiser Permanente canceled my health insurance a few months ago, so I cannot see a doctor. I tried to find a licensed clinical social worker or therapist to help me, but every single one that I have contacted has given me the same song and dance: "I'm sorry. I can't help you." And I certainly can't discuss this with my family.
I have chosen to expose my heart and soul to the world because it is high time that someone does it. I would like people to know that loneliness is a major issue for all of us, whether you are in your teens or in your twilight years. In our community, there are few specific resources out there, and going to the bars is not one of them. Our community should do more to end the cycle, to reach out to people who otherwise would slip through the cracks, and see to it that they never are lonely. If we don't do this now, then we run the risk of ruining this world in which we live.
Alex D. Sarmiento, 23, is a freelance writer, screenwriter, poet, and can be reached at [email protected]. His blog is alexds69.blogspot.com.