At least in my case, this "alien" thing is definitely not about being around people. In fact, sometimes, hanging out with people makes it worse. People have nothing to do with this depth of existential pain, except there are times they can serve as a distraction. Some of my best distractions when I was a bit younger were hanging out with people in bars. Drinking, smoking dope, dropping acid, sleeping around, partying; these things helped me forget the endless sense of abandonment and strangeness I felt. Even now, I can be with my best friends, my husband who I love and who is wonderful and who loves me deeply, with a whole group of people, and be distracted for a while, but deep down, that "alien" feeling is still there.
I can remember riding in the back seat on occasions as a child, when we would drive through neighborhoods in the cities or in rural areas - didn't matter where - seeing the blue light of the TV flicker through draped or undraped windows, or the yellowish light of incandescent bulbs bleeding through cracks in curtains or through the window blinds, feeling an almost unbearable sense of poignancy. Then, I could not put words to what I felt. Now I have some words to describe it.
I pick up on the energy of people, and know that most are sleepwalking through life. Everywhere - even in the best of neighborhoods - was poverty. I felt the poverty of these people on this planet. I'm not talking about lack of money poverty, it is a repressed spirit poverty. The earth itself is gorgeous. But this is a world in unspeakable pain, with most people in denial about it. On the other side of those windows I observed while quietly sitting in the back seat of my parent's car were fake families living a parody of life in square boxes that passed for "home." Many nights I would sit in my front yard gazing into the stars with hazy recollections that "home" was out there somewhere. This was even before I began going to school -- I can remember it all through my pre-adolescent years.
I have come to accept this feeling of "alienation." I don't try to make it go away, but just acknowledge these feelings as part of my emotional experience. I have no idea whether that is the healthiest way to deal with it. Perhaps I should take Prozac or Zoloft instead?
Whatever the case, I appreciate the fact that we can acknowledge these awarenesses and perceptions with each other. It doesn't make it go away, but it gives us the chance to put an arm around each other's shoulders as we "walk this lonesome valley."