The Battle of Solitude: Finding Peace While Feeling Lonely

When Solitude Becomes a Double-Edged Sword

I've often described the height of my depression as a tornado ripping everything apart—picture that iconic scene from Twister where the cow goes flying. That was me, spinning wildly out of control, trying to hold onto anything stable as my life was torn apart by forces I couldn’t manage.

The aftermath felt like picking up debris, piece by piece, and desperately tossing it away, never wanting to see those broken fragments again. I wanted to erase any trace of the person I was during that dark chapter. I went through a total mental breakdown, and it has changed me in ways I’m still trying to understand.

Craving Control

When life spirals out of control, you cling to whatever you can. I found myself in the middle of too many things, trying to keep all the plates spinning while also taking care of a mind that was truly broken. The struggle was overwhelming, and eventually, something had to give.

So, gradually, I retreated. It wasn’t a planned escape—more like my fight-or-flight response took over, and I chose flight. I found safety in focusing solely on myself and my family. Anything beyond the walls of my home became too much to bear. The outside world felt like another tornado, one I had no energy to fight.

Talking About It (Or Not)

We’re often told that talking about depression is essential, and while that’s true, it’s also crucial to find the right people to talk to—people who will genuinely listen and offer the strength you need to heal. But here’s the catch: when you’re in the throes of depression, you barely understand what’s happening to yourself, let alone have the capacity to explain it to others.

Depression is a word that gets thrown around a lot, sometimes out of context, and its severity is often diminished. This makes it even harder to talk about what you’re going through because you’re not sure if people will really get it.

For me, having just one person who truly understood was enough. That person was my doctor, someone I could confide in completely without holding back. With friends and family I simply told them that I wasn’t well and needed time to heal. That was all I could manage to say. I promised myself that when I felt strong enough, I’d share more if needed. But for now, it was enough to let them see, without words, that I was going through something big.

Retreating to Heal

Retreating was necessary for me to heal, but I didn’t want others to see that version of me—the one who was broken and struggling. I’m blessed with friends who have been incredibly supportive without being intrusive or judgmental. They gave me the space I needed to heal.

For the first time in my life, I’m putting myself first. When something comes up, I ask myself, “How does this make me feel?” and I take the time to sit with that feeling before making any decisions. It’s a new way of living for me, one that I’m still getting used to, but it feels right.

Balancing Self-Love with Compassion

As I navigate this new chapter of my life, I’m careful not to let my newfound self-love turn into selfishness. I still care deeply about others, and I want to make sure that my journey doesn’t extinguish that compassion. Seeking solitude was an unexpected but necessary step. I tiptoed into it. But solitude can be addictive. Once you get a taste of it, it gains momentum. For me, this led to a deep sense of loneliness, even though I’ve often felt lonely, even in a crowd. This time, though, it was different because I had removed everything in my life that once defined me.

Rediscovering Joy

A year and a half later, I’m feeling stronger and ready to emerge from my cocoon. I’m stepping into a new chapter, one where I’m rediscovering joy and tapping into my inner child.

Now that my mind is stronger and better able to process things, I’m reflecting on what brought me joy as a carefree child. Despite a childhood tinged with sadness, I found happiness in creating dance routines to the Spice Girls and cycling everywhere on my bike, arts and crafts. I’m rediscovering those simple joys—looking into local dance classes and exploring bike rentals in my town. These are small steps, and I keep reminding myself that there’s no rush.

Solitude has been instrumental for my self-discovery and reflection, but I’m mindful not to let it turn into isolation and loneliness. I’m being gentle with myself as I step back into the world, knowing my worth, my mindset, and my boundaries. I’m excited to get to know this new version of me. She’s been through a lot, she’s pretty great, and she still knows the dance routines to Spice Girls songs.

Share Your Story and Connect

Feeling the sting of loneliness while seeking solitude? You’re not alone. If my journey through these challenges hits home for you, let’s connect and support each other.

I’d love to hear your own experiences with solitude and self-discovery. How are you managing the balance between personal space and connection? Share your thoughts in the comments —your voice matters, and together we can navigate these complexities.

Join me as we continue to explore, reflect, and rediscover—because every step forward is a step worth celebrating.

With joy and a touch of sarcasm,
Kathryn