What Did You Do (Or Didn't) Yesterday?
America's hidden epidemic
We wake up and go into the kitchen. If we live with someone, we might chat about what people usually talk about after a night of sleep: How’d you sleep? Did you hear that rain? Oh, I had the funniest dream.
Most people reach for a coffee and maybe some breakfast. There are others, though, who wake up way too early — or way too late — and spend those first hours alone. With no one to talk to and no one to soothe their nerves after another night of broken sleep, a night framed by the alternating glare and twitch of the TV screen, they silently pour the coffee into them and imagine past conversations, the past hustle, and bustle of a life that resides forever in the past.
Leaving home, millions among us each day, maybe some reading these words, enter into a world of fellow humans having limited and, in many cases, no contact with anyone.
The Cantril Ladder
The American Time Use Survey asks Americans what they do with their time over any given day.
Imagine a ladder.
The top of the ladder is your best possible life. The bottom is your worst possible life.
Which step of the ladder do you feel you personally stand at the present time (Invisible Epidemic)?
The survey examines how Americans spend their lives — are they happy or sad? Are they social or anti-social? Or are they just alone? It seems that in the United States, and quite possibly in many modern societies, there is a “loneliness epidemic.” Being alone and being lonely are not the same thing. Many of us say, “Oh, I love my ‘alone time.”
If you have ever been lonely, and then someone enters into your life who ends that loneliness, then you are less likely to rejoice in your “alone time.” I have experienced loneliness. Having survived three divorces, there is always the inevitable loneliness and regret that overcomes your days and nights. It is ugly, empty, and unforgiving, making you feel both invisible and a misfit the world is rejecting.
However, Much of our society’s loneliness today does not affect only the “divorced.” Since 2003, Americans have reported a drastic decline in time spent with family and friends.
Could technology and the rise of social media have turned us into deserted islands adrift in life? Could it be the replacement of downtowns filled with local shops for the sterile and fake malls filled with the forces of anonymity of chains? Every customer is a welcomed guest and a friend, but all interactions must be within the context of corporate-speak and “If you don’t buy something, then you aren’t really welcome.”
More and more Americans are passing days “free of speech.” Words might be spoken to oneself and expressed in anger to the world around us, but there is no productive conversation, no exchange of anything beyond a “Can I help you?” The checker at the Sam’s Club takes the check, smiles, and runs a marker through your purchase — the moment many Americans had been looking forward to all day, the chance to share some small talk passes.
Drive-thru bank. Drive-thru fast-food. Pop by the store for some milk and use the self-checkout. Drive home. Park and then enter the house. Dinner slapped onto a plate and eaten in silence before the TV. Hours pass, and no sleep comes. Tossing and turning, millions of our fellow citizens — you and me — give up and awaken at 5 or 6 a.m. to begin another day of loneliness anew.
Humans evolved to survive in groups, whether that’s gathering food or fighting off predators. So when we’re isolated, we’re convinced that we’re in danger. We become more anxious, fearful, stressed, and angry.
And, in a cruel twist, loneliness makes us feel more threatened by social interactions — the very thing we need. So we crawl deeper into isolation, creating a cycle of loneliness. Former US surgeon general Vivek Murthy writes: “Over time, this vicious cycle may convince us we don’t matter to anyone and that we’re unworthy of love.”
Ultimately, socially isolated people are 50% more likely to die prematurely — the equivalent of having six alcoholic drinks a day or smoking 15 cigarettes a day (Invisible Epidemic).
As I stood in the line at the self-check-out at the King Soopers in Denver, I waited patiently as a woman just ahead of me chatted with anyone who would listen about the stuff she was buying.
“I can’t believe they are now adding Apple Jacks to Pop-Tarts! I used to love Apple Jacks. My gramma would buy them for us, and my brother and I loved waiting until they flavored the milk. And now, someone put the two together! Who thinks up this stuff?
When she was done with the Pop-Tarts, she moved on to the Grinch whoopie cushions she boughtfor her sister’s kids — if they come by. It seems her sister never made it to her house for Christmas last year, but she wasn’t mad anymore.
Nodding and smiling, but in a hurry and fearing too much engagement lest I be further delayed, I was relieved when she finally grabbed her bag and left.
Making one last joke about using the whoopie cushions on a date she might go on later that week, I smiled at that; she exited the store. As I rang my stuff up, I imagined — because I, too, once felt what she felt — how a sense of disappointment was probably overcoming her. She was returning to the TV, the drive-thrus, lonely meals, and the endless quiet of her home.
Most of our fellow citizens who expressed high positions on the ladder passed their lives not in isolation. The ones who spent days upon days alone, lonely, expressed low satisfaction for their lives — many even zeroes.
57-year-old white female in poor health
Has no partner and 0 children in the household. Has a a bachelor’s degree. Works in retail trade earning $900 a week. They reported being a 2 out of 10 when asked how close were to living their best possible life, with 10 being the best.
80-year-old Hispanic male in good health
Has no partner and 0 children in the household. Has a 10th grade education. They reported being a 2 out of 10 when asked how close were to living their best possible life, with 10 being the best.
59-year-old Black male in fair health
Has no partner and 0 children in the household. Has a high school degree or GED. Works in transportation equipment manufacturing earning $780 a week. They reported being a 3 out of 10 when asked how close were to living their best possible life, with 10 being the best (Invisible Epidemic).
The next time you encounter a fellow employee, a stranger in the local coffee place, or just an overly chatty fellow shopper in line at the supermarket, try to be patient. Remember that that exchange might be the first one this person has had in two or three days. Be respectful, kind, and even understanding. Your smile and nod might raise someone’s life-happiness rating from 0 to 5.
Wouldn’t that be nice?