Many people that I know online with chronic illness suffer from loneliness. We have lost friends, we are misunderstood, and our bodies often don't allow the normal ease of socialization.
I read this passage by Annie Dillard in The Pilgrim of Tinker Creek this week, and it struck me as a lovely expression of how we are all similar in our body's failures and faults. It is a beautiful paragraph showing while we may be lonely, we are not alone.
"I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty beats and shines not in its imperfections, but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind-rent clouds, upstream and down."