I call him Dr. L.

He doesn’t appear to be a solid in form. He’s more of a flowy, gaseous entity composed of black, gray, and tinges of white, which is often overpowered by the black and gray. He starts from the top of my stomach and makes his way to the center of my chest. He sometimes even clouds my mind. He suffocates me: a lump forms in my throat, my mind races to numerous different thoughts. He creates a drowning sensation, making it seem like doing something as simple as taking a breath is an out-worldly task.

No one or anything has ever made me feel like that.

I call him Dr. L, but he’s more commonly known as loneliness.

I was never able to label the feeling of loneliness until the pandemic hit. I sense that it was always there, but I didn’t have the awareness to actually reflect on that feeling.

I was terrified of Dr. L for nearly 3 years. Every time he creeped in, I’d panic because I wouldn’t know 1) why he came, 2) what he wanted, and 3) when he would leave.

I had my Eureka moment last week and think I found my answers.

Dr. L enters when he senses that my boundaries have been crossed – either by myself or others around me.

For example, after returning from some family outing or vacation, Dr. L would often make an appearance the very next day, if not on the plane ride back home. I would always attribute this to the ‘post-vacation blues’ that ‘everyone feels.’ Sure, some part of it could be the ‘blues,’ but the other major part of it was the fact that I was surrounded by people who didn’t make me feel like my most authentic self when I was on that vacation. Thus, Dr. L would abruptly show up to make me realize that very thing: I was not in an environment that gave me the space to be my most authentic self.

Dr. L also almost always makes an appearance when I, myself, cross my own boundaries. When I neglect taking care of myself in the way that makes me feel good (ie, moving my body, writing, spending time with my little man, etc.), he runs on over into my life and makes me feel like the world is ending. In essence, though, what he’s actually trying to tell me is to slow tf down and violently remind me that my mind and body are not aligned.

Realizing this about loneliness and reframing the way I personify this feeling has greatly helped. In fact, I sensed him creeping in yesterday night. When I paused and reflected, I found that I haven’t been sleeping well, eating enough, and have been overworking. Thus, I took the day off from college, sat at home, oiled my hair, worked as much as I could work (did not OVERwork though), watched a movie with my brother, and even read. Dr. L was nowhere to be found.

This is why I’m such a fanatic over the phrase and belief that emotions are data. Loneliness, to me, is one of those many emotions. Its purpose, in my particular life, is to pop off an alarm in my mind when it senses that I am not being true to myself. It tries to nudge me to navigate myself back to my center – my truth. It’s literal data. Life-saving data.

Listen to your emotions, your feelings, and your thoughts. ❤