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We’re in the second week of pandemic isolation. It’s to the point where I have to check the calendar to see how long it’s been because I’ve been isolating more than just staying home. I’ve also been mentally isolated. Have you been there where you speaking aloud is too hard? Where you don’t know where to step? Where every direction seems wrong? The struggle to find which way to tread, balancing all that needs to be done, while keeping yourself sane is so hard.

In a way, I am glad for the physical isolation. I’m not sure I could deal with daily life and this situation. I know I’m being intentionally vague, but it’s the only way I can cope.

I’ve been trying to find support, to read about those who have walked this path, to find a way out of fear and it’s not easy. It’s hard for people to talk or write about the destruction of their lives. About starting over and rebuilding from the ground up… it’s not something we want to think about. That it only happens to other people. People who have some kind of flaw that made them vulnerable. A flaw that ‘you’ don’t possess and therefore you won’t suffer like ‘them’.

I guess I have that flaw.