On Loneliness

Study Hall freelancers compare strategies for staving off isolation.

By Allegra Hobbs

At my last staff job, at DNAinfo, I worked remotely, in coffee shops or from home. This was a significant and difficult departure from the job preceding that one, in which I went to a newsroom every day and was surrounded by colleagues. I could literally spin around in my chair and talk to my editor at any time, which I now realize was a luxury I took for granted.

There was a running joke at DNAinfo that whenever we saw each other, on the days when we had editorial meetings, we were so elated by the rarity of human contact that we couldn’t get any work done. Instead we talked a mile a minute, bonding over difficulties with sources or the joys of community meetings. Then I lost my job, and I went from occasionally reveling in contact with colleagues to having virtually no colleagues at all.

Freelancing is a strange existence: Your work days aren’t framed by commutes and time at a desk, but instead largely unstructured, open to your own improvised interpretations of what a “work day” might look like. As a freelancer, I often feel like I’m improvising interpretations of what it means to be a healthy person. A huge part of that process is intentionally scheduling human interaction.

It’s unsettlingly easy for me to go days without leaving my apartment. I’m a person who enjoys being alone, but enjoyable solitude can slip into soul-crushing solitude before I’ve noticed the stealthy transition. I’m lucky that I see my boyfriend every day, but the long stretches of isolation still weigh on me. Making myself exercise even though I deeply hate it has been very helpful. Scheduling co-working dates a few times a week can literally be the difference between feeling panicked and depressed and feeling generally happy and motivated.

I asked several Study Hall members what they find challenging about and how they deal with the loneliness that stems from our weird professional lives. Their insights are grouped together below. Another member penned some funny and relatable musings on keeping the company of strangers or fictional characters. We also published a Q&A on loneliness with writer Julia Bainbridge, host of The Lonely Hour podcast, which can be read here. Please comment and share whatever helps you combat loneliness, and… let’s co-work!

Causes of Loneliness in Freelancing:

“I’ve been thinking a lot about why I feel lonely as a freelancer, and what I realized is it’s not just about the physical presence of other people, or even basic conversation. A big part of what’s been difficult for me is going from a place where I was part of a team, where we would have pitch meetings and frequent conversations about stories, and follow the news and gossip together, to being alone. I think I miss the sense of camaraderie that comes with being in an office. That’s something that I haven’t figured out how to replace. Social media can occasionally help, and the Study Hall Basecamp groups aren’t bad. But it still feels quite different to me because it’s disembodied. So I’m not sure what would help with this. I’m really lucky to have a partner who works in the same field as me, so I will often talk through pitch ideas and other work issues with him. But I would like there to be other people who I can turn to and in what way that would be more effective for me.” — Jillian Steinhauer

“For me, one of the greatest challenges to combating loneliness is reaching out to people and feeling like a burden. It’s hard for other people to understand what you’re going through and unfortunately, they can’t always provide me what I need when I need it. But I would say, I do feel like I have the resources to do so. I know if I needed professional help, I could get it and I know I’m able to join co-working spaces or take classes that are outlets for me if I needed to. And now that I’ve experienced my first year of freelancing, I think I’m more aware of what I need to combat loneliness.” — Natalie Zisa

“I feel like I’m the biggest challenge sometimes. A friend once told me things aren’t good or bad, they just are — it’s how you think about them that makes them go one way or the other. It feels like an insurmountable mental problem at times. There might be enough resources and support but the onus is on you, and if you’re hiding away and refusing help (like I do, because I’m stubborn and want to do it on my own), it becomes tricky. There’s this thing one of my yoga teachers said about how an unwillingness to use props is a beginner mindset, and to put your ego away and lean on the props if you need to. Another challenge that comes up is that I feel it’s so much easier to reject or ignore when you’re working with people online versus face to face. It can feel extra lonely to feel like, why am I not heard? The digital disconnect causes a (perceived) lack of empathy that makes it feel all the more lonesome.” — Niree Noel

“I think not getting in your own head is my greatest challenge. I wonder if I’m doing enough, if I should even be writing (ha, the drama!), if I incited the best interview from a source etc. Because you create your own routine you could arguably always ‘be on the clock’ and it’s hard to know when to turn off for the day.” — Nico Gendron

What Helps:

“Having people — fellow freelancers or friends who’ve taken the time to understand my working world — I can vent and rant to has probably been the most helpful thing because it’s allowed me to feel like I’m not crazy (or, if crazy, not so alone).” — Ilana Masad

“I know that friends can’t be the support I need all the time, but making time to meet up with those friends has made me feel more connected. I’ll let them know my schedule for the week, so we can pick a day in advance to do something. I’ve also met other freelancers which helps to talk to someone with similar interests. Getting the right amount of sleep so I’m not taking naps during the day is extremely important! Overall, I need the other things in my life to support my freelancing lifestyle.” — Natalie Zisa

“[Volunteering:] One of my favorite parts of being self-employed is that it allows me to do things that my 9-5 job never would have allowed, like a regular volunteer gig on a weekday morning. It’s not exactly a social call (I’m a volunteer medical interpreter) but I appreciate that it gets me out of my house and into an entirely separate environment where I’m using my brain in a different way. I’m also more efficient with my work on days that I volunteer. There are countless good reasons to volunteer, but for writers and work-from-home types, there are definitely some added perks.” — Lauren Sieben

“[Finding a gym:] Once you find a place you can tolerate, it’s nice going somewhere at the end of every work day and seeing familiar faces, making as much or as little friendly small talk as you’re up for, and just feeling connected to humanity again after a day of staring at blank Word docs and talking yourself out of self-loathing.” — Lauren Sieben

“Knitting, for certain. It changes my perspective. When I pick up my knitting I no longer feel like I’m lonely, I feel like I’m making a choice to create something. And maybe I’m knitting my loneliness into something, who knows. But knitting has also led me to knitting circles that meet every other week after work and to forcing me out of my neighborhood to yarn stores in the rest of the city (because touch is the best part of the yarn shopping experience). Working on another creative outlet has also informed my writing and makes me feel like I can take things in stride a little better. This obviously isn’t a solution for everyone, but I also know a married father of two in the Midwest, a freelance photographer, who knits. So, you know.” — Niree Noel

Finding Solace in Unreal (Or Are They Real?) Relationships

By Eliza Carter (@ElizaCarter34)

In a recent conversation with my mom, I recounted a point about Woody Allen a friend had made but I couldn’t remember which friend. Later, trying to recall who it was, I tried to reverse-engineer the context, free-associating from the remark to snickering to myself while browsing spinach varieties and realized I’d been grocery shopping, alone. The “friend” was Louis Virtel, co-host of my favorite podcast, Keep It!, who’d made the remark directly into my ears via Spotify, by way of my earbuds.

I became concerned that “friend” so surreptitiously slipped in for “radio personality.” I considered whether time I spend “with” people like Virtel, whom I’ve never met and who is unlikely to ever know my name, was taking the form of a dysfunctional, unidirectional “relationship.” I spend a lot of time by myself, and that means a lot of time getting to know people like Virtel, who don’t know me or that I exist, and people who exist only in my preferred TV shows, movies, and novels. People like Peggy Olson and Jon Lovett and Princess Carolyn often keep me company, and that feels like something I should probably unpack.

Of course, lots of people watch TV and read novels and relate to people who don’t exist, because those people were well-written and performed by people who do exist. But I think when you spend most of your time alone, you become more attuned to when those fictitious people will reenter your life, as a new episode is released or a new book comes out. Their presence and commentary on reality becomes not just a periodic luxury but a tonic you rely on to deal with the vicissitudes of solitary life. When your favorite host is replaced for an episode, your whole week feels a little sour. When your favorite novelist is taking her sweet time releasing her next book, you crave her orienting perspective on the contemporary moment and feel yourself slipping into apathy without it.

The irony is that we grow close to these people because they make us feel like we exist. I’ve never met Louis Virtel, but he’s witty and acerbic and a little gimlet-eyed, all qualities I either relate or aspire to. I can’t have a dialogue with him and he’s unlikely to help me grow the way real relationships do. But listening to him helps me feel as though there is a me-shaped hole in the world and when I slide into it, others will be better for it. My hope, sanguine though it may be, is that so long as my virtual “relationships” maintain that essentially palliative function, they are harmless, healthy even. When I start to resent Louis Virtel for leaving me out of a group text, though, I’ll really start to worry.

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