A student once asked me at a talk about the relationship with college-aged students and social media. I speak about it somewhat in my presentation and I’ve written about it in another blog post. Yet, there has been more research done on the relationship between social media and loneliness since I wrote that post and I wanted to share some of it.
One thing individuals do when they post on social media is they are most often sharing highlights or interesting aspects of their lives. The constant barrage of one photo after another of someone at a party, or enjoying the day with their family can make one feel as though they’re missing out. And it doesn’t even mean that one feels as though s/he is missing out on something with those around them (a friend’s party, perhaps). It can mean that one feels as though they’re missing out on fun in general. They may think, “Here I am, scrolling through my phone at home by myself, and my friends are having a fun time.” Another thing to note is that social media is a curated medium. While I mentioned this in my blog post on this subject before, I’d like to expand upon it. When you think about it, what are people doing when photographed? The automatic reaction of most people is to smile. Yet we don’t see what their experiences were immediately before or after that photograph. That said, social media use can be a good thing. It can allow us to stay in touch with friends and family members who are far away from us. It can help us find out when events are taking place and make connections with new people from all over the world. What we need is to educate people (including students) about social media and technology in general. These devices and opportunities are upon us but no one learned beforehand about the possible repercussions of too much use. Social media can become addicting, like anything else that gives us a buzz from what our brains recognize as a positive interaction. Too much social media usage can lead to periods of loneliness, though. It can feel isolating to see others live what we perceive to be exciting, fun lives, when ours may not be the same. Yet, that curated existence isn’t true to form. It’s the responsibility of parents, schools, and childhood development organizations to educate everyone on the role that social media plays on mental health. They also bear responsibility to help teach the ways in which social media can lead to addiction and loneliness.
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Where do you fall on the Myers Brigg test when it comes to being an introvert or extrovert? I’ve taken the test a few times and always fell in the introvert camp. There’s no question about it.
Introverts are often tagged as being very disinterested in being social. It’s something I believed for a long time. I thought my time as an introvert meant a life of few friends and the relationships I had were to be deep and life-long. It’s an idea that kept me from wanting to make more fruitful relationships because I figured, “Well, I have the friends I have, and what’s the point in making more?” The past year or so I’ve taken an interest in meeting new people. A lot of it has to do with a desperate attempt to build connections of any sort. I want to develop intimate relationships with others—meaningful friendships. So I cast my net wide and am trying to say “yes” to more gatherings because one never knows who one might meet somewhere. If nothing else, I’ve met interesting people from all over the world who lead unique lives that can sometimes teach me things. That can be anything from a lead to a good restaurant or a new podcast to check out. I’ve also started doing work where I interact more with the public and students. This may not always mean friendships with individuals. Yet I realize that when I’m interacting with others in a social manner, I often forget whatever is plaguing my thoughts at the time. When I’m focused on being social and learning about that other person, all thoughts of depression and loneliness will go away. I’m left with only that interaction and my interest in it and the other person. So, my newfound social nature is born out of necessity (a desire to develop relationships and stave off loneliness). It's also born because I find it interesting to learn from others and form connections with them, even if they’re very brief. Yet what causes me to remain an introvert is that I need solitude to recharge. I desire alone time to process my life and experiences. It’s where I’m renewed. But what has been appealing to me is to learn that being an introvert doesn’t mean I can’t be social or meet a lot of people. It doesn’t mean I can’t be charismatic. It only means that from time to time I need to be alone and recharge in that manner. What about you? Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Where do you find you gain your energy? From people or away from people? Where is that line for you? Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. When I was in college I threw off any pretensions I had of caring about classes, people or things. I knew I wanted to fit in but tried to mask it underneath an idea that nothing really mattered and I didn’t need anyone.
There was still a pressure to succeed, though. It wasn’t from my peers or even received much from my parents. It was a self-imposed notion that I should do well in my classes. Looking back I can see some of it was my perfectionism I had tried to stuff down inside me and some of it was competition with my peers. I understood that when I got a D+ in Interpersonal Communications my freshman year that wasn’t a positive development. I believed I wanted to do well if for no other reason than I held myself to a high standard. My parents were spending their money to put me through college and I didn’t want to disappoint them. These feelings of competition with myself and my peers led me to feel lonely. It seemed as though everyone else had things together—they didn’t have to struggle as hard with their studying and in taking tests. Understanding of subjects came easier to them. It seemed every person I talked to in my classes didn’t have any problems; I was the only one. These feelings continued in graduate school, too. In fact, at some times they felt even more prevalent. There were fewer students and we all took the same classes. We hung out together on the weekends and were friendly. Yet I sensed that there was a comparison occurring in the background amongst the lot of us. Looking back, I can now see I was wrong about my need for perfection and feelings of being alone in that struggle. Lots of students grapple with feelings of inadequacy. The loneliness that came about because of a belief of not being good enough was prevalent in so many of my peers. Here are some ideas of what you can do when you feel lonely due to your perfectionism in school. 1. Share your story. Let others know you’re also feeling overwhelmed. It’s not easy to make yourself vulnerable but the payoff from it can be a weight off one’s shoulders. To be open and honest with your friends or family and let them know you’re struggling gives them the opportunity to help you during such times. 2. Know that what you may perceive as a failure doesn’t mean your world is over. As I mentioned, I got a D+ in Interpersonal Communication in the first semester of college. While this may not seem like the end of the world, I was majoring in communications. I couldn’t even get an A or B in the introductory class for my major. I felt humiliated and insufficient. What was I going to do? Well, I changed my major and got all A’s. And now I speak and write to others. From what I’m told, I’m pretty good at communication. A poor performance in one or two classes doesn’t mean you can’t have success in life. 3. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. If your perfectionism and any anxiety or depression that comes with it is paralyzing you, don’t hesitate to go to your professors. Let them know what you’re struggling with. Often times they will be quite empathetic and understanding. Go to the counseling center and speak to someone there about your issues and concerns. Therapists have seen this sort of problem many times. And speak with family members if you’re close with them. They can often provide support during what is an otherwise difficult transitional time. It can feel difficult to control feelings of perfectionism, especially at an elite school where it may seem everyone is better than you. There are feelings of inferiority. But you’re not alone in these feelings. There are people out there who want to help. And the things that you may perceive as failures don’t mean your chosen career path or goals are unattainable. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. When my partner dumped me in an abrupt way in 2011, I found myself a few days later in a psychiatric hospital. Similarly, in 2001, with my graduation of college only a few weeks away, I couldn’t see a future for myself. Already depressed and hurt by a relationship that ended poorly (see a pattern here?) I tried to take my life.
I don’t deal well with change. In fact, it’s the thing at which I am the worst. It’s different if I take it up on my own: changing a job or moving. Yes, those are stressful activities, but I’m in charge. It’s the unintended changes; the times when I am struck with a life-altering event over which I have no control. Those are the ones with which I don’t fare well. These big life changes are often the points in time that cause me to head in a downward spiral. For much of my life my base foundation is one of depression and anxiety. Thus, I find that an unintended alteration of my life trajectory compounds my situation. I crumble, I get scared, I see walls closing in. Nothing feels as though it will work out for good. In the midst of these experiences, how do I find solace? Where do I go to find some stability? Well, to be honest, I’m still not the greatest at this. I have to work hard to make sure I’m on a good path. I have to stay focused and use all the coping mechanisms I’ve learned. It is very difficult, but I know that often my life may depend on it. That said, here are a few things I do when I am undergoing changes that have a negative effect on me. 1) Reach out Even if we feel very lonely, when we are honest with ourselves we can admit that we all have a few people in our lives to whom we can turn when we’re in trouble. When you feel your life spiraling downward due to change, reach out to those whom you know you can depend. Even if it’s that roommate you had five years ago whom you don’t speak to much, or that cousin you like but aren’t super close to—use that opportunity to reach out and fill them in on what’s happening with you. If you have close family or friends, that’s even better. 2) Create a plan Creating a plan may be one of the last things you feel like doing when you’re suffering from unwanted change. But coming up with ideas of what you are going to do can provide focus. Having a routine and developing ideas to keep yourself occupied is a great way to fend off ruminating on a situation you find to be negative. 3) Become more involved Let's say your change is due to losing someone or finding yourself in a new environment. Meeting new people can sometimes help ease that transition. Making a concerted effort to take part in new activities and making new friends can help in two ways. 1) It helps develop a new community with whom you can find connections. 2) It helps you not spend as much time thinking of the change that may be causing you pain. Do you have any other suggestions you’d suggest for when you’re undergoing big life changes? What’s worked for you? What hasn’t? And did you know there are some good things that can come from change? Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. When I get to the point in my presentation that involves creating an action plan to develop connections, I ask three questions: “What am I good at? What do I like to do? What do I have time for?” Some students tell me that when it comes to the last question, they don’t have time for anything. Students often share how stressed and busy they are. Thanks to parents, friends, and society at-large, many students believe they must take part in many activities to achieve success in life.
While I speak on loneliness and helping people find a sense of belonging, I am also aware that for many college students the alternative is all too true. They take part in more groups and clubs than they can handle. They’re also supposed to study and do work for school. They may even have a job on the side as well. To develop deeper connections with others, it’s key for students to fight back against the stereotype about what college must be. What’s more important is our well-being. And part of that involves ridding ourselves of the things that cause us stress. What I tell students is two-fold. First, I wasn’t involved in any on-campus activities and yet I did okay in college and was able to get in to two grad programs. In fact, I spent a lot of my time at college off-campus, with friends at other colleges. And I also spent a lot of time by myself, pushing people away. Mental illness constantly followed me around. So not joining many clubs is not a death sentence for one’s future. The other thing I tell students is to focus on one or two things they enjoy the most: perhaps it’s a club or activity on or off campus. And let the other activities go. It’s important to experience many different things as we try to figure out what we like to do in life. Yet it’s also key that we follow the activities we enjoy the most. In my case in college that meant going to concerts and shows. I wanted to develop the relationships I found there because music is where I found I fit in and felt accepted—as much as that was possible. College students today have an enormous amount of pressure placed upon them by those trying to help them succeed. But nothing is more important than one’s well-being. I’ve never heard anyone who was happy stressed out and involved in more activities and organizations than they had time for. Yet, when people found time for what they actually enjoyed, they often excelled in those areas. In doing so they found genuine connections with others as well as opportunities that helped them in life. Nothing is perfect, but it is, more often than not, a healthier way to live. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. It’s that time of year: students are heading back to school. I live in a neighborhood with many colleges and universities, and also work part time at one, so it’s a prevalent part of my life.
When I got out of college, it felt weird to not get ready for school in August of that year. When something is part of your life for sixteen years, it’s weird to not have it any longer. Who was I to become without school as part of my existence? It was difficult to fine-tune to a new take on life. That’s not to say I wanted to be back in college, but I had a difficult time adjusting to change in my life. Not going back to school the summer after I graduated made me feel as though I did something wrong. It was as though I had gotten in trouble and wasn’t allowed to be part of my regular routine anymore. I went to grad school a couple of times and that got me back in the swing of things. But with nine years since I finished my last formal schooling, I’ve gotten used to life without college. One thing that was never explained to me, though, was how to make connections with others after being around so many of the same people for years. We graduated, went our separate ways, and our close bonds fell apart. So how can we keep those connections after college? 1) Move to be near your friends When I got out of graduate school the first time, I had many friends from college and other parts of my life who lived in Seattle. After working a job I didn’t like in the Midwest I decided to head out West to be closer to them because I knew I had an immediate community there. 2) Stay in frequent touch Social media has changed how we connect with one another. We can follow people and know where they’re working, how their family is doing, and what activities they’re enjoying by accepting them as a friend on Facebook or Instagram. But that kind of connection can only take one so far. Even texting doesn’t match the level of depth one gets talking on the phone or visiting in person. I have some close friends that I try and see face-to-face at least once a year and speak on the phone with often. There’s nothing like setting aside time specifically for someone to make you feel closer to another person. 3) Accept that some friendships may not last The people I spent time with every weekend in high school may be friends with me on social media, but their deeper connection to me is non-existent. And that’s okay. Imagine if we were as close to everyone we became friends with throughout our lives as we were to those friends we had in high school. It would be untenable. People change, our interests change, and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it also means it may be difficult to keep those friendships together. 4) Build new friendships That said, it is hard to develop new relationships, as I’ve often explored on this blog. But there are ways to make connections. This can occur through volunteering, religious groups, hobbies, and work. These aren’t all the ways to do so, but looking at such things as the EASE Method can give you an idea of how to develop those new friendships. Life after college isn’t easy, but the transition can improve by taking proactive steps to find connections. As I’ve been speaking and writing on loneliness the past year or two I’m forced to take into account my own experiences with it. I think about college, graduate school, and moving to Boston, where I currently live. All those periods had a sense of not belonging.
There were times I experienced connections, though: in high school and when I lived in Seattle from 2006 to 2008. It was during those times that I had close friends with whom I often did activities and with whom I felt close. We shared some common bonds in regards to our interests (mainly music). Our senses of humor and personalities also were similar. Today I struggle with finding connections with others. It causes me to feel a great deal of hypocrisy in what I do. I speak with others about finding a sense of connection—both how to do it and why it’s important. Yet I live more of a “do as I say, not as I do” mentality. This isn’t intentional—it’s not as though I hate everyone and want them to go away. Nor is it because I’m incapable of making friends. And I do have them. But I’ve come to realize that my closest relationships are with my friends I’ve had for a long time. I also feel close to some family and enjoy spending time with them. But, the majority of my friendships are from a distance. I feel bad about this and wonder if I should do more to deal with it. Yet on occasions when I reach out to others or vice versa, I sometimes think about all the other things I’d rather be doing. I contemplate the projects I’m working on, the writing I want to finish, or the ways to grow my business. This isn’t constant, but it is something that crosses my mind. Also, I work jobs interacting with tourists and visitors to the city. The idea of interacting with more people after a long day at work seems, to this introvert, tiring. It’s all too often another obligation. And I hate that it has come to that. I’ve struggled with this hypocrisy for months: I’m not even doing the things I suggest. But the fact of the matter is I’m okay with where I’m at. I don’t feel loneliness running rampant over my life. I don’t have that great gaping chasm in my soul for deep connection. I’m doing pretty well, but I wonder if this situation is tenable. Perhaps what I really need is a regular activity to build connections with others. Seeing my roommate in Seattle every day and doing things with him on the weekend worked to bring us together. Seeing my friends at school when I was in my teens and then at shows on Friday and Saturday nights was helpful. Music bonded us together in one way or another. But that thing I used to hold pretty dear I’ve aged out of. I don’t go to a lot of concerts anymore, only a handful per year. The activities I have are more solitary in nature: writing, reading, and speaking. It’s hard to make connections in that setting—perhaps a book club or writing group? I’m not that type of person: I read sporadically and usually for my own research. I write blog posts and articles (although I have a few book ideas up my sleeve). So what am I missing? What regular activity can I partake in that brings me together with others? And how do I get myself to care about those things? Any ideas? I’m open. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. I recently came across an opinion piece by Varun Soni, the dean of religious life at USC. It's about the importance of colleges in developing “the whole student.” This article hit on a thought I’ve had lately: what is the role of universities and colleges in developing a student beyond their academic education? And why should they take part or not take part in that?
For centuries universities and colleges stuck to teaching academic subject matter. But over time clubs and organizations formed on campuses. These could be fraternal or academic groups. Sports also became a part of the university setting. As medical schools became prevalent, health care became available for students on campus, too. The amount of events, organizations, and departments at colleges today would amaze students from hundreds of years ago. Nowadays, schools also try to focus on developing students’ social lives as well as their mental health. It's safe to say we can agree it's a good thing anytime a person’s mental health improves. (That includes by developing connections and finding belonging with others). Unfortunately, many higher ed institutions appear confused about the degree to which they should support mental health issues. They would rather align their budgets with what brings in the money for the university. This often means athletics and entertainment. Universities often pay a lot of lip service to wanting to develop “the whole student” but fail to do so. Sure, some departments (primarily Health and Wellness Centers) embark on programs to create awareness with the student population about opportunities to help make connections. But far too often they relegate these to some links on a website. (I saw one counseling center link to WebMD and Dr. Oz—the TV doctor. This is a horrible idea. Please do not turn to television doctors for medical advice.) It’s not the fault of counseling centers on campus, though. They’re often strapped for cash, which is a shame. Nothing is more important in a human being’s life than their physical and mental health. If someone’s brain isn’t working well, they’re not going to be able to focus on school. From a practical, capitalist sense, it would seem logical to invest money to help students with their mental health. This includes the means by which they can make connections. For many of us, our parents may have genuinely loved us. Yet many parents didn’t teach us how to make friends and establish connections. It seems like such a simple thing, but it can be difficult, especially when you’re a college student in a new environment and know few, if any, people. Thus, someone somewhere along the way is going to have to pick up the slack and educate students on this subject. Some critics of wellness programs may find fault with the spending of money on activities such as those at USC. These are programs that try to make connections between students. It’s imperative, though, that universities and colleges educate and motivate students to develop connections. The time of relying on universities to only educate students in the academic sense is over. Schools have a responsibility to educate the whole person. This is if for no other reasons than a) it’s good for the university’s bottom line if students find those connections because they will be less likely to drop out and b) often students aren’t learning these skills other places. That said, it’ll take a serious investment from higher education institutions to address loneliness on campus. This investment must be more than the lip service schools have often given the topic. Or, schools need to be aware of how loneliness (and to a larger degree mental health) fits into the picture when it comes to their strategic vision. It’s not too late for schools to act on this, but it needs to become a priority. In doing so we can hopefully stem the tide of loneliness felt all too often by students and which is detrimental to their mental health. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. Recently a friend pointed me to an article by Gary Glass, director of counseling and career services at Oxford College, titled “Rethinking Campus Mental Health.” Glass does a remarkable job exploring the importance of community in combating mental health issues on campus. Glass started as a university psychologist in the ‘90s. At that time it seemed there were more students than ever seeking out counseling services. From my observations (and Glass’s), this seems to be as much of a concern as it was decades ago. Many therapists at universities spend a great deal of time helping students with their fears and worries. These are often, unfortunately, all too typical for students. It’s important students feel they have a place to turn in times of need. Yet counselors have limited time and many students are dealing with serious mental health issues. So, what if individuals and organizations at the university helped to pick up some of the slack in giving students a place to turn in time of need? Glass believes those beyond the counseling center could aid in combating stress and anxiety brought on by competition and perfectionism. Through increased training across departments at our colleges and universities, or simply through a little moral courage, people on our campuses can have intricate conversations to improve students’ lives -- emotionally, interpersonally and spiritually. It’s likely that, in organic ways, such conversations would lead to greater awareness about how some prevailing mind-sets may link to the stress and distress of our students. Perhaps, Glass argues, we can find support systems through staff in residence life, religious life, and student affairs. These programs can build a supportive community for students. Ideally, it will make them feel comfortable approaching others. In doing so they might tackle their worry and loneliness. This article gave me a great deal to contemplate, but I can’t help but think Glass is right. Community is a welcome means by which to handle loneliness. It can also be a frontline defense to address anxiety that all too often brought about by college. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. There are many reasons college students (and to a larger degree those ages 16-24) have a hard time with loneliness. One of these is a misunderstanding of social cues. I read about this as a possible cause of loneliness in my research and knew exactly what it meant.
For a lot of my life, I’ve dealt with low self-esteem and been hard on myself. But over the years people would say nice things to me. Yet I’d never accept them as genuine. Shutting these people down led me to not form connections, which, in turn, made me lonelier. Due to a lack of life experience, it’s often hard for young adults and teens to understand what people are saying beyond their words. For example, when I was in college someone may say something to me like, “I like your shirt,” or “It was really cool talking to you the other night at the party.” And my thought pattern would go to, “They don’t really mean that. They’re just saying that because they feel they have to.” My verbal reaction would be, “Oh, thanks,” and my facial reaction would often be one of nonchalance. In doing this, I shut the door on a possible connection. And when you think about it, there’s no logical sense to the notion that everyone is lying to you when they give you a compliment. There’s not some grand cabal that has gotten together and decided they want to be mean to you. Think about yourself: when you compliment someone or say something nice to them, you mean it. So why would you assume that a compliment directed toward you is illegitimate? When people compliment you, that’s an attempt they’re making to reach out. Next time someone says, “I like your shirt,” use that as an opportunity to ask them what they like about it. Or tell them where you got it. Or why you like it. Use that as an entry point to make a connection. That’s not to say this person is going to become your new best friend, but they might. And as is the case so often with making connections, you don’t know if you don’t try. So, don’t hesitate to accept the compliment and use it as a starting point to develop what could become a genuine relationship. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. College isn’t the only time one can feel loneliness strike. In fact, I recognized loneliness much more in my two graduate programs.
Like college, few people knew one another. We bonded over classes and looked the other way at personality flaws that our peers exhibited. In my second grad program I met so many people dealing with mental health issues. There were barely functioning alcoholics. Few of us seemed to be aware of how to handle relationships—either friendships or dating. In both grad programs I found myself close to some people one semester and then distanced from them the next. I’d meet someone at a party, find them fascinating, dream of what our relationship or friendship might become, and then never see them again. They’d sit in my mind for days or weeks, until the next person came along for whom I’d pin all my hopes of connection. My mental health wasn’t stable during those years and I was too scared to come out and share my problems. I felt loneliness creep into my life. There were peers in my program with whom I felt a connection, but they always seemed to have plans with other people. I couldn’t decide if it was me or them or both of us. Why couldn’t we connect when I saw how much we were all drowning in our despair and loneliness? By my second year of my American Studies grad program I was in the depths of research on my thesis topic: Christian scare films of the 1970s. Needless to say, I was one of the only people working on this subject in the United States. This made it difficult to connect with others on the thing that engulfed my life for nine months. This disconnect left me feeling even lonelier. In both my graduate programs people bonded over their connection with school. They threw themselves into sex and drinking. This allowed them to deal with the awkwardness, the anxiety, and the introverted nature they were trying to overcome. For my part, I dated, went to house parties, and threw myself into my school work. With my American Studies program, I spent long hours tucked away in the graduate program’s office, a windowless cinder block rectangle. It was a cold, dark room, but I could be alone and not bothered there on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Looking back I see how the alcohol and mental health issues exacerbated our relationships. These things prohibited our ability to make connections. We were so desperate to meet others and find a sense of belonging that we tried relationships with people we otherwise might never have. Our school brought us closer together but it wasn’t enough. What I should’ve done during this time was seek others who shared similar interests as me. I didn’t even know who I was then or what I wanted. But using something like the EASE method would’ve been of great help. If you are considering going to get a masters degree or PhD, know that graduate school can be a very lonely time. It can also be quite exciting. Prepare yourself, mentally, for the challenges that may come with being in a new place and new people. Know that as you get focused in your area of study, it may cause you to feel quite alone. Make preparations to extend yourself to find others. The power is in your hands to make graduate school a success, not only on an academic level but also on a social one. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. In our culture there is an idealization of the “loner.” The person who doesn’t need any friends and is okay with being on their own. They’re depicted as strong and don’t need support from anyone or anything. They have a sense of fortitude that can withstand all sorts of storms. When I think of the loner what comes to mind is a romanticized figure like James Dean. Or, I’m reminded of this scene from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure: While I’ve never thought of myself as being like Pee Wee, having grown up in Indiana (home of James Dean), I’ve often found myself drawn to the rebel without a cause. Society tells us there is strength in being alone. In relying only on one’s self. As I’ve thought more of this position, though, I realize there are some benefits. But my experiences have been far different. While my time as a loner was good in the sense of building resilience, it was difficult in that I often wished for connection with others. From the outside, people saw me as a strong individual, not needing anyone else. But inside I felt scared and helpless. My loner status wasn’t of my own choosing. I didn’t know how to make connections with others. I was unaware of any sort of method by which I might find belonging. Furthermore, it was my mental health issues that kept me from finding those connections. I found resilience in my state as a loner, but would’ve been glad to give it up if I could have overcome my bipolar disorder and anxiety. There is a loner state that involves someone interested in being alone but who also knows how to make connections. But for many of us, our definition as a loner isn’t one we welcome. We yearn for connections with others, with friendships that are meaningful and bring joy to our lives. So you may come across someone who strikes you as a loner. You may admire their strength. But know that hidden underneath that solitude may be a mental health issue causing them to embrace that state. And it may not hurt to make an effort and reach out to help them find a connection with others, which they may prefer. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. When I speak with students, one of the things I tell them is that when they try and break free of loneliness, there are times they will fail. In fact, they may try many times to make connections with others, only to strike out the majority of the time.
But there is importance in itself in trying. It shows that we care and we still have an interest in making an effort. We haven’t given up and believe change can happen—that we will find a sense of belonging. In making attempts to connect to others, it also teaches us what does—and doesn’t—work. For years I thought the best way to meet people was to volunteer at non-profit organizations. I believed that I would find connections at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter. And while that may have been possible, I was ignoring the fact that there were likelier ways for me to find friends. I should’ve looked for those who had similar interests as me. I didn’t have a guide to help me out of my loneliness, so I was making stabs in the dark. I was searching for anything that might work. If I had been reflective, I would’ve seen that these failures were saying to me, “Kurt, you’re not going to find your connections through this avenue. Try something else.” And I’ve learned over the years that there are certain groups with whom I connect better than others. It would be easy to see the inability to make friends as a sign that no one likes me. Instead, what I learned was narrowing down the areas in which I could find belonging. I didn't realize that at the time and I didn’t make an attempt to sit down and analyze what my interests are. Some might look at those times as failures. But now I look back and see them as part of the process by which I can find the communities with whom I have a connection. For me, those include speakers, writers, and individuals who want to help people. I’m still open to other groups, but this is my starting point: those who are going through a similar journey as me, even if it’s not the exact same thing. It’s the best place to start. It’s the collective that I’m seeking. What about you? Where have you looked and not found connections? Are there other groups you might seek out to develop community? Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. What’s it like to speak to others about this topic that I’ve made so key in my life? Allow me to give you an idea what it was like to speak at an Active Minds chapter at a university in Boston. Active Minds is a mental health group on hundreds of universities around the United States and Canada. Their focus is students ages 14-25 and they began in 2001. They’re the most well-known mental health group that works with students on college campuses.
I never know how many people will be at an Active Minds talk. The lives of college students are busy. Sometimes there may be five people and other times thirty-five. It’s always hard to say. I set expectations low and force my mind to acknowledge as a reality that there will be four or five folks there. I will make it intimate and relaxed—more conversational. But I also am aware of what I should do if there are many more students than just a handful. I was pretty excited when I showed up to this particular gig to find approximately twenty-five students sitting in the classroom. I brought up my PowerPoint presentation. I try not to have too many slides—enough to reinforce primary points. And then I set in to share my own story of dealing with loneliness in college and how I found myself in that position because of my mental health issues. I stopped at one point in the middle to ask some students their thoughts on why their age group (18-22 year olds) has some of the highest rates of loneliness. They came up with good responses that left me impressed—this was a very self-aware group of individuals. I followed this up by explaining things they could do to help with their loneliness. There are tools they might use to get out of it should they find themselves in that situation. When my presentation was over I took some questions from the audience. There were good responses from everyone, including asking how I got into speaking about mental health. I was also asked why I suggested volunteering as a good means to make connections. Afterward I spoke with a few students and handed out my contact info. I find speaking with students one-on-one to be my favorite part of the evening. I am always curious how they connect to what I shared. I’m also interested in getting a pulse on what is happening amongst a group of individuals to which I am so passionate to speak to. Every speaking gig is a little different because human beings are unique. But on the whole, that’s what it’s like to speak on the subject of loneliness to university students. It takes a lot of time and practice but it’s worth it. Why? Because what I’ve said can have a positive effect on others. Also, the responses I receive afterward, both in person and through messages, are encouraging. These responses give me a sense of purpose and drive to help me continue with living my life to help others. Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. It's scary to put one’s story out there. To really put it out there. When a blog post goes up, it feels as though it’s a drop in the bucket in the sea of personal opinions that comprise the world wide web.
But, I shared my story in a book that came out in March of this year titled Lemonade Stand, Volume 2. It’s a short essay of about 1000 words. But it’s a good summary on how I went from a depressed individual to someone who now helps others through my speaking and writing about mental health. And now it’s out there and it’s permanent in print. People I don't know will be able to hold my writing, put it on their bedside table, and have it on hand for years to come. The spine of the book will stare at them from their shelf. The editor of the book, Josh Rivedal, approached me in 2018. I reached out to him earlier in the year asking about guidance for getting into the mental health speaking realm. We corresponded and spoke on the phone and he gave me some good tips and explained how he broke into the field. I wrote my essay and went back and forth with some edits with Josh before finally getting the content settled. I also wrote a short bio. Then I forgot about the book, or at least put it in the back of my mind, as it was going to be many months until it came out. Then, in February of this year, it arrived in the mail. I read what I wrote. It was months since I had seen it. I was happy with how it turned out and how well I felt it expressed my experiences. I read the other writers' stories. Like me, they all took experiences that some might say were bad or difficult and turned them around. I found many to be inspiring. I hoped my tale did the same. I reached out to my hometown newspaper and got an article written about me and the book. I never thought I’d have an article about myself printed in the paper in whose pages I read comics as a kid. Now people in my past were going to know about my experiences with mental health and depression and being in a hospital for attempting to take my life. It’s daunting to put out your faults and failures for all to look at, especially those who know you from your past. So why did I do this? I believe in my message. I believe things can get better for people. And I know the best way to help others is to share my own message. Truth and honesty are some of the most important values in my life. Being authentic with others in the hope I can help them is something I admire. So it’s something I’ve sought to do. As I wrote at the beginning—it’s scary to do this. But I know that it will help others. I know it has helped others. If you’re reading this, know that you don’t have to be a mental health advocate and become a full-time speaker to make a difference in the lives of others. You can start in a simple way—be honest and true with those around you. What would that look like? How can you use your experiences with mental health or loneliness or any other issue that gives you difficulty and use that to help others? Like what you read? Want to have Kurt come talk to your group about belonging, loneliness, and mental health? Click here to contact him about speaking at your event. Recently a proposal has come forth that a pill might be developed to deal with the symptoms of loneliness. As one of the researchers on the work suggested, the “goal is not to make people stop feeling lonely altogether, but to interfere with the ways loneliness affects the brain and body.”
I can understand the idea of wanting to tackle the physical affects of loneliness as they can be quite harmful. It can make us more susceptible to cognitive decline, cardiovascular problems, and cancer. These are topics worthy to address and find ways to handle. I have my doubts about medications, though. That’s not to say I’m against medication at all. While I do take pills to handle my anxiety and depression, it’s because there is a chemical imbalance in my brain. It’s something I cannot change. Yet there are mechanisms available to handle loneliness. These include utilizing the EASE method. Focusing on social skills needed to develop connections seems far more appropriate in addressing loneliness. Also, in utilizing social skills there wouldn't be possible side effects which often come with medication. There's no doubt loneliness has physical side effects. Yet it's possible the nature of the problem is more with a mental health issue that can come about because of prolonged periods of being alone. A pill to address loneliness may be missing the real issues, which relate more to mental health concerns. Such conditions are treatable through therapy, medications or a combination thereof. In conjunction with learning social skills needed to make connections, undesired effects of loneliness can be overcome. I’m curious to see more research on the subject, but at this point seeking out a pill to “cure” the physical aspects of loneliness seems to be missing the underlying issues of the situation. “Is it possible I’m unlikeable? Perhaps it’s my personality and behavior that causes no one to want to share my company.” That was a nagging thought during my times of loneliness. Yet I came to find out that wasn’t the case. What I was feeling was the stigma often associated with loneliness rather than the reality of the situation.
The reality was that I was having a hard time connecting with others. And that was because I didn’t know how to go about making connections. Today it seems as though people are more willing to admit to a mental health issue such as depression or anxiety than they are that they are lonely. The judgment I had toward myself when I was lonely kept me from reaching out to others for fear of stigmatization. The fact that I couldn’t reach out to others for help out of a fear of judgment made me feel worse. I believed I should be able to get free of the feelings of loneliness I had. This inability to free myself of loneliness goes back to feelings of self-sufficiency that many of us carry in Western culture. It’s based on an idea of pulling one’s self up by their boot straps and working things out on our own. This idea of self-sufficiency is that it's seen as weakness to need help. Indeed, as the late Professor John Cacioppo said in an article from a 2016 story from The New York Times: “The very word 'lonely' carries a negative connotation…signaling social weakness, or an inability to stand on one’s own.” So what can we do about this stigma? As with most issues, it’s important that people who are suffering from this issue speak up. If we share that we are experiencing loneliness, it's easier for others to feel comfortable sharing their troubles. It’s one of the reasons I talk about this through my speaking and writing. Also, bringing attention to the issue as a society is helpful. Directing funds to research and public programs can be of great help in showing individuals how to break free from the grips of loneliness. Education on methods by which one can find connections would go a long way to break down the stigma. At the close of my talk on loneliness I say the same thing: “You’re not alone in feeling lonely.” It’s so important to remind others of that in the hopes that those few words can make a difference to break down stigma. It's a stigma that keeps so many from receiving the help they need to find connections. “Just get out there.”
“Meet people.” “Be social.” If you’re a depressed or lonely person, I’m sure you’ve heard these kinds of statements. It sounds simple enough. But for those in the depths of loneliness or suffering from mental illness, acting on such statements seems like an insurmountable challenge. On the face of it, socializing with others sounds like a good suggestion. It can (and most often does) make us feel better to interact with others. If we are feeling down, socialization can help us take our minds off of whatever is bothering us at the time. Yet, with the depressed person, it seems as though the feeling of escape from one’s problems doesn’t come with much relief afterward. When the conversation ends and both parties go their own way, thoughts of worthlessness and self-doubt can return. A study by the University of Michigan revealed that people with depression don’t get as much long-term comfort from social interactions as those who aren’t depressed. So, socialization is important! It’s part of who we are as human beings. And it’s something we should include in our lives for better mental health. But if it’s so hard for depressed people to get together with others, how can one make it easier for one’s self? What’s key to feeling comfortable with socialization and having it create joy in your life is receiving treatment. This can take many different forms including medication, therapy, or positive psychology techniques. Treatment is critical when one is handling mental health issues. As one would seek physical therapy for back issues, mental health treatment can lead to improvements in mood. By taking medication and going to therapy, I’ve learned to learn to be more comfortable with social settings. It’s not easy in large group settings, but it has gotten better over the years. Thanks to the time and work I’ve put in, I am now in a place where socialization is more meaningful and appreciated. And in that way, my times of socialization have helped me with the times that depression affected me. Those connections get me in tune with that part of me that needs to be around my peers and to feel accepted by part of a group. It’s a lot of effort but one that has helped me greatly in dealing with my depression. I’ve always lived in cities or suburban areas. It’s not been intentional, but it's where the jobs are or my friends live.
I’ve lived in big cities since 2006 and enjoy the realm of opportunities. I’ve often thought about residing in rural settings, though. There’s something desirous about living amongst nature and with few neighbors. I've always had an emotional connection to rural settings and enjoy the solitude (not to be confused with loneliness). My grandparents lived on a farm in rural Indiana all their lives and there were times I contemplated buying their house when they passed on. I thought it would be great to live amongst rows of corn and soybeans, have time to write, and practice some hobby. I spent time in their nearby town, though, and realized the attitudes of people weren’t quite the same as mine. Confederate flags were flown and life focused on farming, something of which I have no understanding. I'd be hard pressed to find a good vegetarian meal. Still, there was something to this idea of living apart and away from others. I currently live in Boston and today I gravitate to the idea of moving to rural New England. I’d still like to work on my writing and develop some hobby, maybe have a kid and be a stay-at-home dad. Rural New England could be a nice mixture of my values, a connection to the environment, and an occasional vegetarian meal at a restaurant. I think about what my loneliness would do if I didn’t live near others, though. That might spur me to become closer with the few neighbors who were within a mile of me. It's also likely I'd take part in activities in the town nearest to where I lived. It may be that living in a rural setting would be all I needed to develop those relationships I lack. From research I’ve seen, it appears loneliness affects everyone, whether we’re in the city or the country. I’ve had many opportunities to make connections with people in the city. Yet, given the plethora of folks to choose from, I tend to find myself more picky than I would be if I was in a rural setting. And if I found myself in a place where I had no one else from which to choose to connect. So it's possible I would find connections easier if I moved to rural New England or my grandparents’ farm. Or perhaps it’s more important I work at building community, no matter where I am. I love both rural and urban settings in equal amounts. Thus, it’s a trade off of the simplicity and quiet of the rural areas with the number of opportunities available in the city. We don’t always get to choose but both can provide experiences of loneliness and social isolation. Yet both are also capable of building connections. In the end, I suppose it's important for me to always be making an effort no matter where I find myself. In my presentation on loneliness that I give to college students, I share how throughout my darkest times there was a theme of having no one to talk to. I was on my own with handling my depression and anxiety. There was so much stigma and I felt embarrassed to bring up what I felt were weaknesses.
In the years since college I’ve learned that mental illness has this incredible ability to make us feel alone. It causes us to feel as though we’re the only one dealing with what we’re going through. It warps our sense of reality. Mental illness causes us to feel very lonely. I already felt out of place in college. I was a punk kid at a school where most everyone was preppy. I chose my college because my sister went there and I felt scared of going to school somewhere that I didn’t know anyone. I thought a large state school would swallow me up. I worried I’d get lost there and matter even less than I felt I already did. Music was my life at the time and it troubled me so much to realize that there wasn’t anyone else at my school who had the same deep interest in punk music as me. This already left me feeling lonely. The added burden of depression and anxiety only increased the disconnect I felt toward others. I began to ask myself, "Why would I want to speak up about my mental health concerns if they left me feeling guilt and shame? Not to mention, how can I explain what is going on in my mind if I can’t even understand what it is? It seemed easier to not even try." But not starting that process of speaking up on our mental health issues doesn’t help us. In fact, it only sets us back from being the happier people we want to be. (Even at my most negative and lowest points I had to admit I did want to get better. But I didn’t know how.) So we need to make those initial steps to speak about our mental health. In doing so, it enables us to not only work toward recovery, but break free of the loneliness that so often accompanies mental health issues. I write a lot about connections, loneliness, and belonging. It’s important to have community in our lives. It makes us healthier, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And even though I’m not yet forty, I’ve been fortunate to have some friendships for over twenty or even thirty years. I find those friendships rewarding. We do our best to keep in touch via email and social media. I also try and visit these friends once or twice a year. Our brief times together provide me with much encouragement.
But there’s a flipside to this: how do you know when it’s time to end a friendship? As an article on friendship pointed out: “When getting together feels like an obligation, you dread seeing someone or you walk away from dinner feeling angry, frustrated or dissatisfied, it may signal that the friendship is faltering and the end is near.” It’s possible we have a toxic friendship. There are people that abuse our time and sympathy (I call them emotional vampires because they suck our emotions and give nothing back). It’s often the case that we wish to do what we can to save the friendship—especially if it’s one we’ve maintained for many years. Yet, for the sake of our own mental health it can sometimes be best to end that relationship. When I have found a friendship to be overwhelming me emotionally, what I often do is first try and confront the friend in an honest manner. I let them know what they’re doing and that while I still care for them, they way in which they’re approaching our friendship is difficult for me. If that gentle reminder doesn’t help, it is good to speak again with them. But if repeated discussions don’t change the person’s behavior, it can be best to extract one’s self from the relationship. In doing so there might be feelings of remorse and sadness from letting go of something that you may have once held dear. But keep in mind that your mental health is what is most important in this situation. It can be key to look after yourself, especially if the relationship is causing mental or emotional distress for you. When it comes to the actual extraction, lessening the frequency of communication is the best means to do so. It doesn’t mean to stop speaking with them cold turkey, but it can mean instead of your monthly call or email, make it every other month. If you’re in their city or town for another reason, don’t reach out to let them know you’re there. If they find out later you were around, assure them you were busy the entire time you were there and didn’t have a moment to spare. If the friend confronts you on your behavior, be honest with them. Explain that you spoke with them about changing their behavior to make the friendship more equal and that s/he didn’t adjust. Tell them that you have to watch out for relationships that are difficult for your mental health. There is no reason to feel shame—your mental health is more important than any of your friendships. The relationship may find a rekindling. That is the ideal situation. Your friend sees how their actions caused problems with your relationship and then changes their behavior. Barring that, though, you may have to make a clean break with that friend. It can be difficult and there will likely be feelings of remorse and as though part of you has died. And it’s okay to feel that way, because when we lose something important in our lives, it’s natural to grieve. At moments such as that, turn to other friends and family. Give yourself time to feel your feelings. And then continue to build new relationships. Leave the past in the past knowing that you did your best to save the friendship and had to look after yourself. And when dealing with the precious area of mental health, you can never be too safe. It’s that time of year again: holiday season. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s are all within six weeks of one another. While for many it’s a joyous occasion, for others it can be a very lonely time.
Here are a list of some things you can do to fight off the loneliness during this time (and especially on the actual days). 1. Reach out to family Not everyone has a good relationship with their family. But if you do and can’t be with them in person, try and connect with them. I’ve spent a few Thanksgivings and Christmases on my own. I made sure to call family on those days and let them know I was thinking of them. I checked in to see how things were going and what they were up to—not only about that specific holidays, but generally in their lives. A phone call for half an hour or an hour is a good way to feel connected with others, even if we’re not there with them. 2. Reach out to friends Chances are you may not be the only person amongst your friends who doesn’t have anyone to connect with on a particular holiday. For a few years I lived far away from my family on the other side of the country and couldn’t make it home for Christmas. So I spent it with friends—eating at a Chinese restaurant or a diner. Even if it was for an hour or two, it was nice to be out of my apartment and with others. Sometimes I didn’t even know the people too well. But I put myself out there and realized that I would feel better if I could be around others and out of my own head. 3. Come up with plans on your own Chinese food and a movie. I’ve done it before and it’s always a good time. When you’re at the Chinese restaurant, take a book with you or do some journaling. Afterward, go see a fun film or some big, dumb blockbuster movie. Something to take your mind off any loneliness you may feel. Or, spend the day and binge watch a TV show while working on a project. I often feel bad if I binge watch an entire season of a show but if I’m also spending the time working on a project, it can feel useful. 4. Work on goals for the next year If you’re alone for a holiday, spend it working on goals for the next year. What do you want to do in the first three months of the year? The first six months? Ask yourself why you want to achieve these goals and what roadblocks may come up in trying to do them. Develop steps to complete your goals. Then put these steps in your calendar for the next few months and keep yourself on track. These are a few ideas of things to do when you’re alone (and if you're lonely) on a holiday. I’ve celebrated my fair shares of New Year’s Eves, Christmases, and Thanksgivings on my own. I’ve found these ideas to work for me. But what about you? What’s worked for you? Leave me some comments below—I’d love to hear from you! Over the past few months I’ve been on a journey to narrow down my focus of speaking about loneliness. It's a big topic and while there are those who speak about the subject at large, I prefer to speak to college students.
College was when I first experienced full-blown bipolar disorder as well as the first time I felt severe loneliness. Part of the reason was because I went to a college where I didn’t fit in, but also my mental health issues kept me from feeling connected with others. Reasons for loneliness among college-aged students can vary. Some are from overseas and going to school in another country may not be easy. For others, their mental health issue may keep them from finding connections. Or it's possible the school they’re at is among people they don’t feel comfortable: they’re a city person and they’re in a school in a small town, or vice versa. Whatever the reason for the loneliness, it exists. And it’s prevalent among college students. So what are we to do about it? The first thing we can do is have people speak up. And I’m not only referring to professional speakers on college campuses. I’m also including students. It’s may be easy for some students to hear a tale from someone like myself who is out of the realm of college age and dismiss what I say. But, having a fellow student come out and proclaim their difficulties can have a much more powerful impact. Whenever we know the person dealing with a problematic experience, it can make us accepting to what they’re going through. The second thing is to have more education about the agency that we, as individuals, have to combat and defeat loneliness. I’ve often believed that early in a student’s college career (or even before it), there should be education on mental health issues at school. Students should be aware that college can be a time of great transition with their mental wellness. And they may feel emotions and undergo new experiences in their mental health. That said, loneliness should also be a part of that conversation. This is especially important for students who spend time overseas or who, for one reason or another, are going to be away from their peers. Yet, learning about how to find belonging should be something that colleges teach students. College can be a tremendous time of change. Even if you’re not in school, the transition from high school to the full-time working world is a jolt. Thus, more awareness, by both peers and educators, is key to letting those in their late teens and early twenties know they’re not alone. And in doing so, we also should pass along means by which those in college can know that there are ways they can find belonging. I've written about how I got into speaking on mental health, but never so much why. So why did I decide to put myself out there for others to get to know something that many consider a deep, dark secret?
I've always been somewhat of a confessional writer. In the early 2000s I published my horrible poetry and free-ranging rants on my music website, Action Attack Helicopter. I knew I wanted to share thoughts and ideas with others--I thought it might help someone although I'm not sure why. I suppose at some point I got some encouragement here or there from a friend and a few positive words of feedback. That was enough to keep me going. Over the years I've had some zines and blogs and they also received very limited but honest praise. And I also didn't know what else to do--I felt there was a need to express myself. It's part of being a writer; that idea implanted in one's mind that one must share their thoughts. It didn't seem too awkward, then, to transition into being more direct and honest about my mental health issues. No longer did I need to mask it in poorly written poetry or adequate prose. I wrote not only of my struggles but also of answers. I spent hours of time online and researched solutions to issues related to loneliness, anxiety, and bipolar disorder. It's not only about writing, though. It's easy to do that behind a computer, tucked away in my apartment. Yet, I want to speak about loneliness and depression. There are a few reasons why I actually get in front of crowds and speak. 1) I like the immediate reactions. It's wonderful to see people smile or laugh at what you say. Or it's an acknowledgment through a nod that they understand what you're saying. The ability to try and connect with others--and to know you're connecting--is a rewarding feeling. 2) It's a rush. Speaking makes me nervous and I imagine it always will. Yet when you know your topic and can channel it into energy when you speak, it's quite a high. 3) I can see the direct effect of lives changed. It's encouraging and rewarding to have that immediate validation afterward. It's awesome when someone tells you that what you said spoke to them and they can identify with it. That confirmation of what you did and that it had a positive impact on others signals to me that it was a job well done. I'm not going to lie: it's validating to know I'm changing lives and affecting people. It makes me feel good. But that's something we all seek in our lives. We want to be happy about our existence. So yes, some of this is about what I get out of it. But if I'm going to feel good, I can't think of any better reason than because I'm helping others with my words and speaking. How does one go from feeling nervous about public speaking to presenting a 35 minute talk on loneliness? Should you accept the challenge of becoming a public speaker your experience will vary, but here are the steps I took.
In high school I was in a couple of plays but always had small roles—just a few lines. I sang for my friends’ hardcore punk band on occasion, too. It was a real rush to feel so many people with their eyes on me. After that my performing life went dormant for a long while. In graduate school in 2009 and 2010 I began to present at academic conferences on my masters thesis subject—1970s Christian scare films. Despite small audiences (as is the case at almost all such events), I discovered I enjoyed being in front of others. I liked sharing information about a subject in which I had an interest. In 2014 I decided to break myself out of a depressive spell by taking a stand-up comedy class. I have always enjoyed watching stand-up and thought that I could do it. I performed at about 15-20 open mics and did a showcase for my class, too. While I didn't take to the comedy scene, I did know I liked being on stage with people watching me. In such a situation, I found it created a nervous ball of energy and anxiety that pushed me to perform with great passion. The next year, 2015, I looked into giving historical tours. I took a class through a non-profit that offers such tours and learned a bit more about the history of Boston. After six weeks I graduated a docent and began practicing. And practicing. And practicing. I walked my tour route in Boston's North End many times. I practiced out loud in my room. I followed nine different guides on their tours so I could see what they did. I gave three practice tours to friends. When my time finally came I did all right. It wasn't the best thing ever but I enjoyed it. As long as I felt comfortable with the material, it went okay. After doing that tour for three years I started working for another company giving a different tour. I learned to handle horrible situations: down-pouring rain, bratty children, fist fights, and drug addicts around me as I tried to tell tales. These situations built character and resilience. I started going to Toastmasters about this time, learning the fundamentals of giving speeches. I realized I already had most things down well. I used Toastmasters to try out some ideas, though, including my first speech on loneliness. After about a year I left, knowing that I had gotten what I could out of it. During this same time I made a goal to enter one storytelling event. I practiced my story to my cat and my mirror a dozen times or more. And when it came to my first story slam, I won the audience choice award. For the second event, I entered I won the entire story slam! It's taken me years to work on my self-esteem but I can finally say that this is something at which I excel. When it came to learning how to understand the speaking business and find gigs, I listened to The Speaker Lab. It's a podcast for speakers and those who want to speak. I also read a lot of articles. I took a copious amount of notes. I've learned that moving in a stair-step approach—taking on things one at a time—is also helpful. I can't imagine going from no public speaking to giving a 35-minute presentation. But adding one challenge and then another enabled me to build confidence. I may not be the best public speaker but I'm doing what I can to share ideas and help some people along the way. It didn't happen over night but the journey has been well worth it. |
This blog is an exploration of the subjects of belonging and loneliness. I also look at mental health issues. I seek to provide content to my readers that is informative and helpful. If you don't want to miss anything, sign up for my email list.
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