About the benefits of loneliness

Loneliness is one of the most popular topics in the world of psychology today. It has become the subject of so many studies, articles and discussions that sometimes you want to send them all somewhere far away and finally devote the freed time to yourself.

You may be aware that loneliness has real physiological consequences and can be deadly: it has been linked to heart disease, insomnia, and depression. The harm of social isolation is comparable to the consequences of alcohol and drug abuse. In addition, loneliness is more accurate than obesity in predicting the likelihood of early death.

But when it comes to loneliness in moderation, I suggest looking at it in terms of its benefits. “Solitude is a good thing, as long as we then do what we have to do – reconnect with other people,” says German psychologist Maike Luhmann. “This emotion signals that we have fewer full, meaningful social contacts than we would like to have, and that something is broken in our psychological system.”

This biological mechanism has evolved over millennia, alerting us to a potentially dangerous level of isolation. True, today isolation is no longer so dangerous: a lone city dweller is less likely to starve to death or be eaten than a lone prehistoric hunter-gatherer. But the reason why loneliness still causes us such acute pain remains unchanged.

Many people perceive this idea with surprise: is loneliness good? But the surprising thing is that we used to think differently. Why would there be such a reaction to isolation if it didn’t serve a purpose? The same can be said for boredom, which warns us that there is not enough meaning in our lives, and anxiety, which helps us prepare for potential danger.

This becomes apparent when one thinks about the meaning and purpose of physical pain. We don’t like throbbing abdominal pain at all, but it’s “good” because it forces us to see a doctor and find out what the problem is. In programming language, pain is not a bug, it is a feature of the program.

If we stubbornly refuse to think of emotions in this way—as warning bells—it’s probably because it can sound like an accusation. Try to tell a lonely person that he should communicate more with others, go to various public events – he will take this as an indication of his inferiority, that loneliness is his shortcoming.

Also, some forms of depression develop as a response to a difficult situation that needs to be addressed: perhaps it’s time to end the relationship or deal with some kind of internal conflict. But we prefer not to hear it: it is much easier to explain depression as a “chemical imbalance” in the body. We treat it as the underlying problem, when in many cases it should be treated as a symptom.

The worst thing is that loneliness, like depression, can become chronic. There is a vicious circle. You come to visit friends, not set up too complacently. They accuse you of unfriendliness and thereby make you feel guilty. As a result, you respond with even more hostility or avoid contact altogether.

This kind of loneliness requires a very competent response: you need to listen to the warning bell, but not to the thoughts that it generates, urging you to distance yourself from others. Listen – and lend a hand, even if this idea does not appeal to you at all. Again, the analogy with physical pain will help you here. Surgery attracts few people, but sometimes this is exactly what we need in life.