Misery Doesn’t Love Company — It Needs It

“Misery loves company.”

We’ve all heard this saying.

It’s a popular proverb that means:

people who are unhappy or even in pain tend to take comfort in knowing they’re not alone in their suffering by making others miserable, too.

“by making others miserable too”.

I have a problem with that.

The sentiment behind this implies that miserable people want you to be just as unhappy as they are and will go out of their way to ensure that others are just as miserable as they feel.

To me, it paints suffering people as inherently evil by disregarding the factors that contribute to the human condition of “loving” the company of other suffering people when life isn’t giving us its best.

Trauma bonds debunk this theory by being a perfect example of when “misery loves company” — without having to induce it in all parties involved.

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Trauma bonding has two meanings

The first definition is:

the formation of an unhealthy bond between a person living with abuse and their abuser

But it’s taken on a different meaning over time where trauma bonding now also applies to people who connect through shared trauma; either because of surviving a similar abusive situation or the same abuser.

Whether we want to admit it or not, trauma bonds us all because life, itself, is a trauma. None of us are leaving it unscathed. Many of us relate to one another on very painful levels.

It’s when things are hard that we tend to gravitate towards people who can understand our pain from firsthand experience with it.

This is natural.

This is where misery becomes a form of connection.

So the question is —

Does misery really love company?

Or do we?

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I suffered a devastating loss last Tuesday

I found a stray kitten a couple of weeks ago that I took into my home. Her mother had abandoned her and I took her in as my own child.

Her name was Shadow.

Immediately she looked to me as her mommy.

I would realize a week into her stay that something was wrong, she had developed breathing problems among other symptoms. She was sick but it had taken a while for it to show.

The Friday before last, I realized she was dying and I couldn’t get her help in time. She suffered in the end, and she was desperate to live.

And I was helpless to help her.

There was nothing I could do but watch her die and stay close. As scared as she was, she found comfort in my anxious presence because her misery had company.

We suffered together for five days before she eventually succumbed to her illness on Tuesday morning, and I was present the whole time. She actually took her last breath staring me in the face.

A few of my neighbors were alerted to what happened by the maintenance men who helped me bury her, and they rallied around me that day.

A complete stranger who’d also heard of the tragedy approached me later on that day, offering her compassion — and the promise of a new kitten.

My friend, Sheena, who helped me find Shadow came to comfort me because she lost one of her beloved cats in a very similar way and she also suffered the burden of having to watch her baby die slowly.

By default my misery had company

But did I love the company?

No, I’m not sadistic.

There is no joy to be found in knowing those around me have suffered similar grief. But did I like the fact that my misery had company?

Yes.

My misery liked the company because it appreciated it.

This is a matter of empathy vs. sympathy.

It feels relieving to have someone not only sympathize with me but empathize with me, as well. Because there is a difference.

People who sympathize with you feel for you.

But the people who empathize with you feel with you.

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Empathy involves a totally different level of comprehension

One of the two leaves you feeling less lonely in your human experience.

Those who empathize with us are acutely aware of our pain and are more likely to offer genuine human kindness and compassion. They’re better at determining what approach might be needed.

They are the people less likely to offer tough love from a strictly logical point of view when what is actually needed is softness and an unconventional perspective of the situation at hand.

Empathizers understand that.

Sheena understood that.

Many people would discount my pain or the fact that I actually consider the loss of Shadow akin to the loss of my own child. Sheena was gentle and understanding.

She took it seriously.

Me and Sheena were raised similarly.

We both see pets as family and we both have mothered kittens but Sheena also has two sons.

It meant more that someone who is a mother of human children could also empathize with the validity of how I processed losing Shadow.

It felt relieving to have my grief seen in a dynamic where it could have been overlooked.

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Empathizers tend to trauma bond easier than sympathizers

Empathizers are better at giving us the advice we need.

Especially if they’ve already overcome whatever it is we’re currently going through. With Sheena, the advice she gave me came in the form of a personal story.

She opened up to me about the loss of her cat and how much pain she was in over it. That was all that was needed because the comfort in this wasn’t about knowing that she suffered too.

It was about knowing, for a fact, that she understood; and that my grief wasn’t some isolated incident in this huge world.

I was not the only one who lost a child I didn’t give birth to, that also wasn’t human. And I was not the only one who felt that this perspective was valid.

This is why I love empathizers.

This is also why empathizers can trauma bond effortlessly. Their wisdom makes them magnetizing and their compassion is their charm.

Empathizers are the people who can tell us from firsthand experience the roads available for others of us to take to journey away from our misery.

However, empathizers who are currently going through similar hardships, bring a different gift to the table. They offer us the comfort of their company.

And that is the point.

Our misery doesn’t love company… our misery needs company.

Misery is one form of connecting.

Life isn’t always grand.

We will not be meeting everybody we will know at our best. Some connections were meant to form during the shitstorms. These are the moments when trauma bonds us to one another, as humans.

And in many cases, this is how we’re gonna pull through.

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Misery does not love company — it loves the comfort of company

Sometimes what keeps us going is encountering people who share our experiences; people who know our pain, and can recognize our traumas without us having to explain ourselves.

Not because we’re sadistic.

But because we’re human and afraid.

We all long to be understood.

It’s reassuring to know that somebody out there “gets” it. Sometimes it’s even more reassuring when it comes from a total stranger.

Just like the lady who approached me and promised me another kitten if she found one. She recognized me as I carried Shadow’s cat bed outside and stopped me — to hug me.

And it mattered.

Having someone with no prior experience of you understand exactly where you’re coming from is one of life’s little miracles; a way of throwing us a bone or better yet, a lifeline. Because at some point we’re all gonna need it.

Every single one of us.

Just like I did that day.

So to correct the theory, no, my misery does not love your company. It needs it and it will appreciate the hell out of it.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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