Colony of Losers- Fuck Stigma and Mental Illness, I'm like 25

Surviving your Quarter Life Crisis and becoming an adult

Lonely New Years

Posted on | July 10, 2017 | No Comments

I’m watching Nathan For You on my laptop, which is haphazardly resting on my mattress. I can hear the fan in my computer whirring towards annihilation. I check my phone. No messages.

It’s New Years. It’s 9:30PM.

I have absolutely no plans.

The feelings that change you are the ones that feel like they’re going to last forever. It’s the difference between infatuation and love. Between sadness and depression. Between being alone and being in the full and all consuming grip of loneliness.

I’m in my underwear reaching a nuclear level of lonely.

It’s the type of feeling that blocks out memory or daydreaming. It’s like you’ve always been here. It sinks through your skin, into your bones and at first you just feel numb. Like your nervous system knows this is something you shouldn’t have to feel and it shuts down. Because when you become aware of this feeling it’s like your feet have been encased in concrete. And you sit there paralysed, watching Nathan For You, trying to get your attention span back from the pit of your stomach.

No messages.

I should turn off my phone. That way, I won’t check it. There’s nothing I can do. No place to run. I just have to feel like this for a while. I imagine telling people what I did on New Years. It’s strange how shame makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Like everyone cares what you’re doing.

I once saw a homeless man getting a hug. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t think they knew each other. But he was asking people for change and somehow he got a hug. I remember looking at his face and being lost in his reaction. It was as if he was seeing the sun for the first time in years. And I was astounded at how important it is to take that brave and awkward step towards connection.

I have gone weeks without being touched. I can’t imagine what it feels like to go for years. This New Years was a reminder of what loneliness is really like. I don’t really need to describe this feeling for you. I know you’ve felt it. I live in Toronto. There’s five million people and it’s incredibly easy to lose touch with all of them. Everyone is busy. As an adult you have work, a love life, exercise, and family to take your attention. It’s easier to read advertisements in subway stops rather than muster the irrational courage it takes to meet a stranger’s gaze. It’s unspoken that it’s rude to start a conversation. As an adult you see your friends less and less. Your social circle shrinks. It happens to everyone.

It’s a cliché to mention that we say more words through our screens than we do in person. Or to say that our eyes do most of the heavy lifting in our personal interactions. We connect through pictures without touch, smell, taste or sound. You get it. It’s so boring that we don’t like to see our lives honestly depicted in media. And the older you get, the harder it is to be brave.

What happened next?

I got a text message.

“Come over.”

Relief floods by body.

It’s from my childhood best friend, Dave Plowman.

He says that he’s taking it easy with his girlfriend Lauren but they would love for me to join them. I turn off my computer. I get on pants and my shoes.

I’m on the subway. Meeting stranger’s eyes. Finally able to breathe again. In fact, I’m breathing a little quickly. Like I know I’ve just escaped from something deadly that I can still feel in my body.

I’m surrounded by drunk people. Some of them are wearing adorably psychotic festive hats. Some are willing to make eye contact with me. I beam at them. I got out.

I don’t think Dave will ever fully realize how important that text message was. I guess people rarely talk about how much friendship means. Dave and I have been there for each other throughout the years – when it was four in the morning and it was goddamn necessary to pick up. We’ve been there through funerals, divorces, breakups. I stayed at his house the first night I moved to Toronto. I stayed at his place after my apartment building burned down. Some things break. Our friendship won’t.

I go to his house. I have a drink and his pug George crawls into my lap. I feel alive again.

What’s the point of all this?

A web series called Just Cuddle. 

It’s about people who are lonely and somehow manage the bravery it takes to reach out to make a connection. Our story is about a professional cuddler. Each episode is a short film focusing on a different client. It will be unlike any web series you’ve ever seen.

Share

Comments

Leave a Reply





CommentLuv Enabled
  • Introduction to the Cure



  • Peter Diamond Gallery

  • About

    Michael Kimber is a 26-year-old journalist who suffered a nervous breakdown on November 3rd, 2009. On March 28th, 2010 when he recovered from mental illness, he began writing a blog called Colony-of-losers. About falling on your face to figure out who you are and the hilarious antics of a blond jew. What began with a few friends and his mother reading has become a cult phenomenon, averaging 10,000 views a week, receiving praise from Commonwealth Award Winner Shandi Mitchell and many others. On, November 3rd, 2010, the one year anniversary of his mental breakdown he signed with Anne McDermid and Associates, the largest literary agency in Canada. In a year he went from wearing pajamas, making his couch depression HQ to leaving his hometown for the Toronto, where he exclusively wears business suits and the armor of ancient Greeks. Don't worry, he's still choking on the feet he contently sticks in his mouth and making moments awkward just by being part of them. During these struggles he met other talented bastards and drew them into his circle. Peter Diamond became his illustrator. Patrick Campbell his video editor and part time photographer. He recently added the incredibly talented John Packman as Colony of Losers Toronto photographer. Without the support of the Colony of Losers, Michael Kimber would be nothing. Welcome to the losers and the success that comes from utter and complete failure. You aren’t alone. Follow him on twitter.com/colonyoflosersand twitter.com/quimbo. If you’d like to hire him for a public speaking engagement for mental health events in Toronto, like to arrange an interview, offer millions to publish his book or for another reason contact Michael please email him. And join his facebook Colony of Losers.

    Really obvious disclaimer:
    I’m not a trained psychologist. Just a fellow traveler. If you need help seek it from the professionals. The Canadian Mental Health Association provides a help locator. You can find crisis resources provided by the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention. If you are in the states check here. It will give you services by zip code. I’d also recommend checking out Mindyourmind.ca. I think they do great work and have been a help to me personally.

  • Archives