Isolation: When Pain Has Nowhere to Go
Written by Peter Cappon, LPC, founder of Mend Counseling, a psychotherapy practice offering in-person and online therapy.
We all carry parts of ourselves that feel too complicated, too intense, or too unacceptable to share. Most of us have learned, in one way or another, that certain feelings should stay hidden. We tuck them away quietly and hope they will fade on their own. Over time, those hidden parts begin to shape how we relate to ourselves and others.
But emotional pain does not fade in isolation. It grows louder. This is one of the reasons therapy can feel so grounding. Being met by a caring, steady presence keeps us from facing pain alone. When pain has somewhere to go, it becomes more bearable.
Irvin Yalom, an existential psychiatrist and writer whose work has deeply shaped modern psychotherapy, includes isolation as one of the four ultimate concerns of existence. Along with death, freedom, and meaning, it influences much of what we wrestle with as human beings. Isolation is more than loneliness. Loneliness is the absence of others. Isolation is the knowledge that no one can ever fully experience life from inside my body, with my history, fears, and longings.
Loneliness is often dismissed as a minor discomfort, but it is one of the strongest amplifiers of psychological pain. Have you ever been surrounded by people and still felt completely alone? That experience is isolation. It is not just an emotion. It is an echo chamber where pain reverberates without relief.
When someone becomes depressed, withdrawal often follows, and that withdrawal deepens the depression. The spiral tightens. Pain becomes harder to name and even harder to share. This is why connection is such a powerful part of healing, and why working with a therapist can interrupt that cycle by creating a place where pain is allowed to exist between two people.
Being seen, understood, or simply sat with does not erase suffering. But it keeps pain within a range we can survive. Human connection reminds us that even when we feel fundamentally separate, we are still reachable. It offers a form of grounding that helps us stay oriented rather than overwhelmed.
We also live in a time when fear has made disconnection easier. Lingering isolation, avoidance shaped by uncertainty, and a tendency to pull inward when life feels unstable all contribute to a sense of separateness. Pushing back against isolation often requires intentional connection, even when it feels uncomfortable or vulnerable.
Connection can take many forms. It might be a friend who listens, a loved one who stays close, or a therapist who helps make sense of what feels unbearable. The steady presence of another person keeps us tethered to the world when everything inside feels scattered. This is the heart of relational work, and it is central to individual therapy.
We heal through connection. Not by removing what hurts, but by allowing someone else to help carry it with us.
