If I wasn’t The Hermitess before, I definitely am now. I chose the name for the blog because I felt that it fit me, a woman who was choosing to work at home in the middle of the woods, and trying to deal with extreme anxiety that made it really difficult to be around other people.
I also just like the word (discovered in a thesaurus search because all the other good words for loner were taken).
I was preparing for a day like the days in which we now find ourselves. Planning out my garden, my husband busy building a generator that could power a small trailer park, thinking up all kinds of ways to save and go as far off grid as we could comfortably stand.
I was trying to get out more. I was trying to figure out how to properly communicate with others in a way that didn’t send me to my car to have a panic attack.
You’d think that a person who’s always had issues with the outside world wouldn’t be feeling the effects of this virus in relation to social interaction. But I am.
There’s a big difference in staying home with the knowledge that the outside world is, you know, out there, and staying home because the “out there” isn’t really there anymore.
My anxiety has been bouncing through the roof at random a lot lately, I won’t lie.
I’m torn between the need to get away from my house and do something (anything!) different and curling up into a ball under the covers in my room and not leaving until this is all over. The second is the safest option, it’s also my go to position for intense depression. Am I depressed or being safe? Does one have to choose anymore?
I’ve kept up appearances pretty well with the kids. I think I am anyway. Of course they know what’s going on but they don’t know that we’re all (the grown ups who are supposed to take care of everything) freaking out really bad.
*Note: I’m not arguing with anyone because NO ONE knows what’s going on anymore.
I haven’t done Jack Shit of substance in quite a few days now if I’m being really honest. Which is what I said I wanted to do with this blog. The honest part, not Jack Shit.
I’ve been painting with the kids and watching the baby chicks and trying to do anything that distracts while isn’t a violation of any of the new regulations that are being put in place (very necessarily I know). I’ve also been reading, (I tried to read The Plague by Albert Camus but I need a distraction not a parallel to the current events page) and trying really hard to get into the head space to write (but that’s not been very easy).
I’ve always loved being at home. I’ve never been the type of person to prefer a social gathering to time alone. My mother can tell you lots of hilarious (to her) stories of me asking when my sleepover guest(s) would be leaving (usually not long after we woke up) because I really wanted to be alone. Looking back I can see I was tired of being the person it felt like I was required to be in the presence of guests.
It’s funny, sort of, because since I cracked and went full blown anxious-me I can’t even figure out how to be social-me anymore. I’m just this weird blubbering anxious mess all the time and I never have to deal with someone discovering the real me because I’m too crazy to be anything but crazy. 100% what you see is what you get now.
Anyway.
The kids are home all the time now. Which isn’t horrible (I’ve never had the anxiety issues with my family the way I do with anyone outside my family) but it’s also exhausting. There is no space, there is no privacy. For so many people this quarantine means being away from all the people and for me it’s bringing the people into my safe space. There used to be designated times for this stuff.
Spring Break was not the most exciting we’ve ever had, but it was nice to just do nothing without the looming threat of packet work and online work. We could just binge watch the same television shows we’ve been watching for the last ten years.
It’s hard not to sink back into that routine. It was a nice place to be while the world seems to burn down around us.
I guess, I’m just lost. But who the hell isn’t right now?
A Hermitess 