Holi-Daze — KAM REDLAWSK

Nearly 1 in 4 adults across the world are lonely. The loneliness epidemic in America, with 58% feeling like no one knows them well, is highest amongst the young than those over 65.

With technological advancement and more access to instant social “connection”we’re (allegedly) more connected than ever, so why so lonely?

Loneliness isn’t about being alone. Aloneness and loneliness are two separate things. Loneliness is about the quality of connection. It’s about authentic emotional bonding.

Loneliness doesn’t just equal sadness or depression, it’s also how it leaks out— all the destructive behavior enacted at the self or onto others-from addiction to violence-in order to relieve the pressure valve.

We live in a time of cheapened connection. We live in a time of little nuance and great division, purposefully carved and artfully exploited to keep us at each other's throat with stoned compassion—a necessary ingredient for dehumanization, and closed eyes and ears. Our identity is often wrapped in our community which can be a good thing, but also dangerous when it blinds us from the truth.

In the end, what we all have in common is we want community. But also, in this (lonely-driven) need, sometimes community drives us to tribalism—transforming our nature and willingness to do terrible things to maintain that community. This is in response to fear, insecurity and loneliness. This is why cults and cult-like behaviors are so successful.

Loneliness can trigger your brain's response to physical pain that releases harmful stress hormones, and as a species that values and thrives on community and collaboration as an evolutionary trait, social connectedness is an essential root of our humanity.

For many, loneliness around the holi-daze also becomes as traditional as dead bird on the dinner table.

As a kid, Christmas and the holiday season was laid out as this extravagant wonderment-even if from the corner of your eye you sense abbreviated lulled magic among the adult section-replaced by stress and frustration. But still. December as a child was pure adrenaline popping. This speed-like wonderment can change as you age.

The simplified headlines about the holidays reads that it's one big Thomas Kinkade painting ready to explode its glitter confetti mess all over you. Recyclable confetti, of course. We’re responsible celebrators.

Every holiday song is telling you to be merry, every commercial depicting GAP cable-knit togetherness in front of a dangerously roaring fireplace, is communicating that, “it’s a big club, and you ain’t in it”. The holidays are a “bag-over-the-head, punch-in-the-face, hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny-f—cking-Kaye” movie-like event, and it’s time to fall in line.

Except this isn’t the complete story.

In reality, the holidays are tough for a lot of people. In reality, fifty-eight percent of Americans experience severe depression and anxiousness during the November and December months—from pressure in overdrive, financial strain, high expectations, obligatory ‘Keeping up with the Joneses’, and those who are alone or grieving for loved ones.

So you’re not alone.

Since my mother died on December 11 of 2016, and a few days before Christmas in 2021 I was told my dad had a year to live, but he passed a month later instead—the holidays haven’t been the same. This, combined with my grandmother dying a few days before Christmas in 2006, and a series of friends that have passed during the holidays, including the last couple years, has made this time a chore.

The holidays, a time once looked forward to for its festivities and extended familial gatherings held together by copious amounts of tables lined with coma-inducing food, has now become a long predictably drawn out few months representing a former fog version of itself. As an adoptee with no children, thus no nuclear family-the only dream I ever once had so I could give the unconditional love and memories to my child that I felt I needed as a kid, I’ve tried to adapt. The no children thing: time arranged in unexpected ways combined with difficult decision-making for this once held dream…that’s a story for another time. The point is, I understand the holiday blues people spoke of. This year hasn’t been as bad because I’ve been consumed with my book, but it’s always there, like the lonely leftover gravy residue your aunt burned on the holiday table. It’s there.

I end this post of mixed thoughts with one of my favorites, an excerpt from Charles Bukowski's 'Love Is A Dog From Hell’:

there is a loneliness in this world so great

that you can see it in the slow movement of

the hands of a clock.

people so tired

mutilated

either by love or no love.

people just are not good to each other

one on one.

the rich are not good to the rich

the poor are not good to the poor.

we are afraid.