Isolation is one of the hardest things I deal with in my life. It is both my prison and my haven. If it is broken without my being prepared for it, it can cause me a huge amount of anxiety. I noticed this over the past couple of days. I had an issue with a tap at the house that required repair. So the owner came out and checked, which I wasn't prepared for. He just turned up. That threw me but I coped. Yes, my heart was racing and I jumped at every noise but it was bareable. He said he would organise a plumber, so I was prepared for that. What I wasn't prepared for was that he came back with the plumber, and brought a mate and his mate's kid. That really threw me. The whole time they were here I felt like I was under threat. Now, none of them did anything in the least bit threatening, but that was how I felt. It was the same today when the owner turned up unannounced to finish the repair.
I have grown so used to my isolation. During my marriage it was a defence mechanism; if I didn't have to be around people then they wouldn't know how bad I was feeling. To actually go out and spend time with people was so hard for me. The anxiety it produced was nearly paralysing. I never felt like I was good enough to be around other people, that there wasn't anything remotely likable about me and therefore I had to make myself of use to others. I still struggle with this at times, but not as much. Now I just have times when I am mystified about why people like me, perhaps because I have always struggled to find anything about myself that is worth liking.
To have people in my house, particularly during the later years of the marriage, was even worse. It meant that people would be in my protective sphere, not that it was particularly protective for the real problems in my life. To have a Candle Party, ot a Linen Party, no matter how much I wanted to, nearly drove me over the edge. When it was over I would be utterly drained, for days afterwards.
Yet isolation was such a prison during that time. I had been moved away from family and friends and starting over, yet again, was so hard for me. I think that was mainly because I just didn't like myself, I saw nothing of worth inside. But I craved the company of others. I wanted so much those times when friends would just drop in for a chat or the kids friends could come over. Yet for that to happen....well, again, the anxiety was unbelievable. I needed to break through the isolation but really didn't have a clue how to. I still don't a lot of the time.
In so many ways the steps I have taken in breaking the isolation, regardless of how hestiant and incomplete they are, have been the key to my healing. I have been lucky, blessed even, to find friends, both online and in real life who do like me, who do care. It is with the support of those friends that I have been able to access professional assistance and find safety for myself. I haven't broken they isolation completely, nor am I completely healed, but things are better than they were.
The main reason I have isolated myself is for protection. I didn't want to be hurt anymore, or again. I didn't want to love others, as I have come to love my friends, for fear of being hurt and let down again. And I didn't want to lose people I cared about, as happens so often in my life. But loving people and moving on, or having them move on, is a part of life. I know that. Yet sometimes it still seems so much easier to isolate myself, physically and emotionally, than to take the risk again. Being hurt the way I have been has left such a huge mark on my life that I just don't know who I am anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment