Feature Issue on Loneliness and People with Intellectual, Developmental, and Other Disabilities

Like No One Cares That You're There

Author

Zach Taylor is an artist and an employee at Town Line Redemption Center, a state-operated bottle and can redemption center. He lives in South Attleboro, Massachusetts.

I live in a group home with staff and roommates, and sometimes it gets overwhelming. Ever since I moved out of my mom’s house, it’s been tough adjusting to all the people, and I’m still getting used to it.

A young man with light skin and brown hair and a goatee wearing a red and black plaid shirt smiles as he looks ahead. Next to him, a young woman with light skin and shoulder-length straight brown hair swept back off her forehead, wearing a purple jacket, smiles as she looks straight ahead.

The author with friend Shelby Richardi

To me, loneliness is the feeling that even though there are people around, you feel like no one cares that you’re there. It feels like no one wants to hang out with you.

Since I’ve met a couple new friends, it’s been a lot better. I met Shelby [Richardi, an Impact editor for this issue], and she’s my best friend. I feel like she’s changed me a lot as a person. It’s good to have a best friend to talk to. Before I used to be lonely, but now I have someone to hang out with and talk on the phone.

Now I go up to people and say hey, how’s your day going? I start up a conversation. Like yesterday at the bowling alley, I went up to a few people. I’m shy, but the more I do it the easier it gets.

I’m a painter, and I was thinking about how I would draw or paint loneliness. It is not having anyone to talk to. It seems like people don’t want to meet each other anymore. They’re on their phones. It used to feel like everywhere I go, no one wanted to be friends with me.

Now I want to get out there and meet more people. Even if you don’t make a connection, you’ve made the effort to meet someone.