There’s a Word for the Loneliness You’re Feeling Right Now

As a friendship expert, at the core of my beliefs is that people are fundamentally good, that we all want the best for each other. It’s been hard to reconcile these beliefs with what is happening in the world today, with political extremism, war, chaos, scapegoating, and more.

When I came across the term “existential loneliness,” it helped me make sense of what I was feeling. Existential loneliness is when we feel like we’re the only one experiencing the world a particular way. Fyodor Dostoevsky described it aptly in Notes from Underground when he said, “I am alone…and they are everybody.” With the U.S. government doing things that are so deeply at odds with many of our core values, it’s easy to feel alone in our sense of reality.

Here’s why existential loneliness is so harmful. It’s known as a “deeper form of loneliness,” than the garden-variety kind, with a participant in one study remarking, “Existential loneliness feels like I’m alone in a void that only I can see and feel and it doesn’t exist or matter to others, however non-existential loneliness just makes me feel sad.” (P151, 18-year-old, gender- fluid). Another study described it as feeling like “a prisoner of one’s own mind.”

We can feel connected to others and still feel existentially lonely. Take a veteran who returned home to old friends he loves, but who will never understand his experiences on the battlefield. Or take a gay man at his heterosexual friends’ wedding who keeps hearing that marriage is meant for a man and a wife. Sure, he may love his friends and even feel connected to them, but that won’t stop him from feeling existentially lonely. (In fact, people from marginalized groups are more likely to feel existentially lonely, according to one study.)

Research finds existential loneliness impacts us in a way that’s unique from regular loneliness. Whereas regular loneliness is related to the need to find belonging, existential loneliness is not, suggesting that people high in existential loneliness may feel more resigned to their situation. This willingness to withdraw from others might also explain why the more existentially lonely we are, the less empathic, egalitarian, and communal (defined as trust, compassion, altruism, and loyalty) we are. Existential loneliness also amplifies the negative impact of regular loneliness. Loneliness is more strongly related to depression for those who are also existentially lonely.

If you’re struggling with existential loneliness, here are some ways to cope:

1. Recognize that it’s not bad to be existentially lonely. Every bit of social progress has been catalyzed by a group once in the minority. Martin Luther King Jr. once said:

“But I must honestly say there are some things in our nation and the world to which I am proud to be maladjusted and wish all men of goodwill would be maladjusted until the good society is realized.

I never intend to adjust myself to segregation and discrimination. I never intend to become adjusted to a religious bigotry. I never intend to adjust myself to economic conditions that will take necessities from the many to give luxuries to the few, leaving millions of people smothering in an air-tight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society. I never intend to adjust myself to the madness of militarism and the self-defeating effects of physical violence…

We need maladjusted men and women where these problems are concerned.”

2. Do something nice for others. As mentioned, the more we are existentially lonely, the more we withdraw from others, which then makes us more existentially lonely. Try volunteering or doing a random act of kindness for someone else. Even better, you can volunteer with a group that affirms your most important values. If you feel alone as a queer person in a predominantly heterosexual environment, you can volunteer with a group that supports LGBT youth, for example.
3. Talk to people who share your sense of reality. There’s value in connecting with people who are different than you, but there’s also value in connecting with people who see the world similarly to you. When people were paired in an online chat with a stranger (see Study 3), the more that they interpreted an ambiguous image similarly (is that hooded man talking to the man with the pipe because they are friends or enemies?), the more they clicked, felt close, and desired to see one another again. But that shared sense of reality fulfilled an even deeper need for the participants: It provided something called “epistemic value.” It helped participants trust their own convictions and sense of reality.