Journal Entry: Wednesday April 25, 2018 (7:20am)

For months I’ve been concerned that something might be wrong with me. I’ve been consumed with a growing desire to withdraw from the world.

I run all errands in the mornings. Make any necessary appointments no later than 10am. All to get happily tucked back into my home by mid-day. Where I stay.

I’ve wondered…
Am I depressed?


I simply don’t want to exert much time or energy interacting in the world.

This morning I realized why.

I was driving. I went to turn. And almost hit a car that came out of nowhere, sped past me and didn’t stop at the stop sign.

Even as I barely avoided hitting his car…
He didn’t see me.

Wherever he was in his mind, he wasn’t there. He was clearly somewhere far away.

I neither honked nor got upset. (I did breath a sigh of relief.)

Instead… A growing sense of understanding & acceptance washed over me.

I don’t like being out in the world because when I am, I feel like I’m surrounded by the living dead.

People who are there. And, yet not.
People wrapped up in their thoughts.
Alive but completely unaware.

They walk. They talk. But, something’s clearly not right. It’s like there is an emptiness inside.

They’re disconnected – from others, from themselves.

Most interactions are brief, shallow, distant… Something used to pass the time before they can get on with their life.

At home, I feel peace.

Outside of it, stress & anxiety can easily overwhelm me. Not my own. The stress & anxiety radiating off of everyone else.

It scares me. The contagion. It shows what & who I could easily become if only I give in to the incessant hum that lulls so many into a deep waking sleep.

So, I avoid it. Lest I become infected myself. A fate similar to death.

What else I can do? Until I can come up with a way to ensure immunity for myself?

In the meantime, I protect myself. Hoping (but knowing it’s not the case) that someone will find a cure.

Until that day, I stay alert. Looking for people (the few) who have remained uninfected too. Every time I find one, I feel a brief sense of hope. I treasure them like a rare gem.

Only to have hope soon fade, as I wonder & fear if it’s only a matter of time before the virus invades them too.

And then, what will be left?

A world alive.
But withering inside.
With no place safe.
No one immune.

I open the car door. Walk through the garage. And, into the house. As I do so, I feel instant reprieve.

I am safe.
I am present.
For now, my roots deep & strong like a tree.





christie on Twitter
Learning obsessed. Growth focused. Wisdom seeking. Recovering perfectionist. In eternal struggle to tame obsessive compulsive tendencies.

Also blogging about self care at

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