“I am describing for you today, as a sign of great affection, the bad and the difficult nature of my situation. I have found until now, from the earliest childhood, nobody who had the same needs of heart and conscience as myself. This compels me to still today, as at all times, to present myself, as best I can, and often with a lot of bad feeling, among one or another sort of human being who are permitted and understandable nowadays. But that one can only really grow among people of like mind and like will is for me an axiom of belief… that I have no such person in my misfortune. My university existence was a wearisome attempt to adopt to a false milieu; my approach to Wagner was the same - only in the opposite direction. Almost all my human relations have resulted from attacks of a feeling of isolation: overbeck, as well as Ree and Malwida - I have been ridiculously happy if ever I found, or thought I had found, in someone a little patch or corner of common concern. My mind is burdened with a thousand shaming memories of such weak moments, in which I absolutely could not endure my solitude any more. Not omitting my illness [depression], which always discourages me in the most horrifying way; I have not been so profoundly ill for nothing, and am ill on the average now still - that is, depressed - as I say, simply because I was lacking the right milieu and I always had to playact somewhat instead of refreshing myself in people. I do not for that reason consider myself in the least secret or furtive or mistrustful person; quite the reverse! If I was that, I would not suffer so much! But one cannot just simply communicate, however much wants to; one has to find the person to whom communication can be made. The feeling that there is about me something very remote and alien, that my words have other colors than the same words for other people… precisely this feeling, of which testimony has lately been reaching me from various sides, is nevertheless the subtle degree of ‘understanding’ that I have till now found… do not therefore think me mad.”
—- Friedrich Nietzsche, Selected Letters May 5, 1885
This is an excerpt from a letter written to his sister Elizabeth.