Feeling Like You're All Alone in the World
Sometimes, and particularly lately, I've been feeling lonely. And while this might seem hyperbolic — I know I'm not lonely because there are, in fact, people who live below me and in my building at the very least — it's a very real feeling. Even in our present age of digital, instantaneous connection, I feel like I've been cast aside or cast away as if no one cares about me, my experiences, or what I've been through.
It's hard to wrestle with because, on the one hand, yes - I have this amazing community that I can talk to and that should alleviate the pain and the depth of the issue I'm feeling (and sometimes it does). But on the other hand, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes there is this general feeling and longing for human interaction that isn't necessarily mediated through a screen, which is still hard to do given the current state of the world.
How is feeling lonely connected to having RA?
What I'm trying to explore in this article are the manners in which these feelings of loneliness are connected to having rheumatoid arthritis (RA). I and many other community members have written about how RA can cause feelings of loneliness because the experience of the disease is inherently isolating, partly because the pain is very great and partly because you feel that you are so incredibly different from the people around you. This can certainly lead to feelings that no one cares, that no one wants to even try to understand, and more.
An RA diagnosis at a young age
For me, in addressing loneliness, what made my situation a bit different was how young I was diagnosed. Most 21-year-olds aren't talking about how their joints hurt, how they can't enjoy social outings and events, how they feel like they are walking through a fog all the time, etc.
They also haven’t had to deal with fighting with insurance companies to make sure their 12,000 dollars a month (without insurance) medicine is still covered, with calling rheumatologists and doctors to make sure they understand your condition, with the fear of going to said doctors and not knowing whether or not your condition has gotten worse and what that could mean for the remaining quality of your life.
Limits on my social life
Compounded with that is the actual physical experience of having RA, which can be equally isolating - both because of the unique experience of the pain and because the physical pain can limit your social life. I remember when I was first being diagnosed with RA, I would spend most of my time just doing the bare minimum, only to come home and collapse and take a nap for a few hours at a time.
This is what I had to do to survive, to keep going; but, it also inherently limited my social life: I didn't have the energy to meet up for coffee, to get dinner with friends, to even network or send emails. It was a constant drain on my system, and at the time, it felt like there was no stopping RA from consuming and controlling my life. I felt isolated and all alone — how else was I supposed to feel?
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