Loneliness: Loneliness and Health
- Dr. Howard A. Friedman MD, founder of HHOM LLC
- Oct 4
- 6 min read
9-25-2025
By Dr. Howard Friedman MD | Veteran | U.S. Army Medical Corps | Internal Medicine | HHOM LLC
A crowd around, yet silence near,
A thousand names, but none sincere.
The heart still hungers, empty space,
A longing for a human face.
—Dr. Howard Friedman, M.D.
Thesis
Loneliness is not the same as being alone. Solitude can be chosen — a pause, a breath, a space for reflection. Loneliness, by contrast, is unchosen. It is a wound of disconnection, a form of social pain that arises when the relationships we desire do not match the ones we have. Loneliness is not counted in the number of people around us but in the absence of meaningful connection. Where solitude can restore, loneliness corrodes.
Loneliness and Health: The Hidden Toll
What makes loneliness so insidious is not just the ache in the heart but the toll it takes on the body. Research now places its impact on par with smoking. Persistent loneliness raises blood pressure, accelerates cognitive decline, suppresses immune defenses, and fuels cardiovascular disease. It floods the bloodstream with stress hormones, feeding inflammation that eats away at brain, bone, and vessel alike.
The body keeps score of our disconnections, and over time, that scorecard grows deadly. Loneliness, like smoking, shortens life.
The Veteran’s Burden
For veterans, loneliness cuts especially deep. In combat or deployment, you are never truly alone. You live and breathe with your unit — eat together, sweat together, depend on each other for survival. That bond is unbreakable in the field. But when service ends, the squad dissolves. The structure, the mission, the constant presence of brothers and sisters-in-arms vanish almost overnight.
Civilian life rarely offers an equivalent. Friends and family may care deeply but cannot fully understand the weight of combat memories or the rhythm of military life. The shared language, the dark humor, the unspoken trust — all of it is hard to replace. For many veterans, that gap becomes unbearable. Alcohol and drugs too often fill the space where connection once lived. They numb the ache but never heal it, creating another battle long after the war is over.
“Over there, I was never alone — and I didn’t want to be. We ate shoulder to shoulder, cursed the same mud, laughed through the same exhaustion. I knew if I closed my eyes, someone had my back. Then it ended overnight. One day I was part of a family with a mission; the next, I was signing discharge papers. Coming home, the quiet wasn’t peace — it was emptiness. People asked how I was doing, but they didn’t speak the language anymore. It was easier to say ‘I’m fine’ and pour another drink than to explain the kind of silence that follows you home.”
That contrast — from constant company to sudden solitude — is why so many veterans struggle to rebuild connection. The silence after service can feel louder than the explosions of war.
The Cultural Shift
Loneliness is not only personal; it is cultural. A century ago, multigenerational homes were the norm, with grandparents, parents, and children under the same roof. People lived near extended family, leaned on neighbors, and drew daily strength from religious communities. Rituals of connection — Sunday dinners, handwritten letters, thank-you notes — stitched people together.
Once, families gathered at the table every evening. In the neighborhoods where I grew up, six o’clock meant dinner — not just for one household, but across the block. That rhythm has faded. Today, meals are scattered, eaten in cars or in front of screens, often alone. What was once a daily anchor of connection has become an exception, and with it another thread of community has unraveled.
Today, progress has carried a paradox. Advances in technology, mobility, and individual freedom have often come at the cost of community. Families scatter across states and rarely return. Religion and civic organizations, once anchors of belonging, have receded. Communities fray. We carry 500 “friends” on social media yet know few of them well. A text replaces a letter; an emoji substitutes for presence. Our culture has tilted toward convenience and away from connection. And in the hollow created, loneliness grows.
Why Loneliness Is Growing
The epidemic did not appear overnight. Technology has given us endless ways to “connect,” yet left many more isolated than before, mistaking scrolling for speaking, likes for listening. Community spaces have faded, leaving fewer places to gather without agenda. A relentless work culture rewards productivity while starving presence. Economic strain forces people to prioritize survival over belonging. Trauma and mental health challenges make reaching out feel impossible.
And the pandemic, with its long months of separation, etched distance so deeply into daily life that even when doors reopened, hearts often stayed shut. For veterans, these cultural forces collide with the sudden loss of unit identity, magnifying the sense of exile. For civilians, they quietly strip away the social fabric that once buffered against isolation.
The Way Forward
There is no prescription pad for loneliness. Its antidote lies in the slow and stubborn work of reconnection. Sometimes it begins with something as small as picking up the phone, sending a message, or writing a letter by hand. For veterans, it might mean finding fellow service members in local VSOs, support groups, or community centers — people who speak the same language of service and survival. For families, it may mean reclaiming the table, the porch, the ritual of presence.
On a broader scale, healing loneliness requires more than individual effort. It asks us to rebuild the spaces where people can meet without transaction: community halls, gardens, libraries, faith groups, and neighborhood gatherings. It asks us to measure success not only by wealth but by well-being, not only by achievement but by belonging.
Loneliness cannot be erased in a day. But it can be softened, step by step, story by story, presence by presence. Every moment of care extended, every conversation shared, every small act of showing up is a thread that mends the tear.
Sidebar: Rituals That Resist Loneliness
Technology promises connection, but it rarely delivers presence. What resists loneliness are the small rituals that tie us back to each other — the ones we’ve always had but often forget.
Letters and cards. A note in the mail carries weight no text can match. A thank-you written in ink lingers, both for the giver and the receiver.
Shared meals. Gathering around a table, even with just one other person, creates a rhythm of belonging. Meals remind us that life is not meant to be consumed alone or on a screen.
Community groups. Book clubs, veteran halls, choirs, or local projects — these spaces stitch people together outside of transaction.
Faith and reflection. For centuries, religious and spiritual gatherings were anchors of connection. Whether in a sanctuary, a meditation hall, or a living room, they remain places where isolation loosens.
Life is not on television or in the glow of a computer. It happens at the table, in the letter, in the gathering. These rituals do not cure loneliness outright, but they resist it. They remind us that connection is not abstract — it is built, moment by moment, act by act.
A single voice can break the night,
A hand extended sparks the light.
The threads we weave, though torn, renew—
Connection heals what silence grew.
—Dr. Howard Friedman, M.D.
—Dr. Howard Friedman MD
Board-Certified | Internal Medicine | Veteran | U.S. Army Medical Corps
Founder of Howard’s House of Medicine (HHOM LLC)
Frequently Asked Questions:
Q: How is loneliness different from simply being alone?
A: Being alone can be restorative when chosen — a time for reflection and solitude. Loneliness, however, is unchosen disconnection. It arises when the relationships we want do not match the ones we have, leaving an ache that corrodes rather than restores.
Q: Why is loneliness considered as harmful to health as smoking?
A: Chronic loneliness raises blood pressure, suppresses immunity, accelerates cognitive decline, and fuels heart disease. Its toll on the body is comparable to smoking, because stress hormones and inflammation quietly erode health over time.
Q: Why do veterans experience loneliness more intensely after service?
A: Military life fosters constant companionship, shared mission, and unspoken trust. When service ends, that structure dissolves overnight. Civilians may care, but they rarely speak the same language of combat or camaraderie. The sudden silence can feel unbearable, leading many veterans to struggle with reconnection.
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