What could I possibly have in common with Michael Jackson or Howard Hughes? It's definitely not the money or fame. I can't dance (though my inner diva sometimes believes I can) or design aircraft. The commonalities may seem illusive, but they're actually reclusive. All three of us have different reasons for choosing to be separated from society, each of us has made a conscious choice to be alone.
I should be disturbed by the fact that I don't have a problem with spending most of my time alone. It was only a few months ago that I wrote the blog "Friendship and Chronic Illness", where I seemed upset with my new lifestyle, where being alone was not a preference, but a byproduct of being chronically ill. Now being alone is as comfortable as a good book and my temperpedic bed.
The way I see it, being home is safe and easy. It's the one place I can control. If I need to put my feet up I can. If I'm hot I can turn on the air conditioning. If I'm hungry I can eat. It's quiet in my house and my kids enjoy the peace as well. It's a stress free environment. If I feel faint or nauseated, there's no one around to feel embarrassed about my condition. At home I can just deal with it with no explanations.
Going out has become work, and my constant brain fog has caused me to forget things like water to keep me hydrated on my trips out. I know I could make a check-off list, but to be honest I've kind of stopped caring. I'm like that diabetic teen who eats that candy just because they're tired of diabetes hanging over their head. I often feel trapped by the outside world. Yesterday I was sitting in church, the noise, getting up and down and the excitement level pushed my symptoms to veer its ugly head my way. But that's nothing compared to the feeling of sitting in a pew while my heart rate dips to 30 then followed by an annoying adrenaline rush that sends my heart rate soaring to 160. I can't leave or I might faint, all I want to do is lay down and wait for my heart to calm down. Now I know my dear friends would be fine with me laying down on the pew next to them, but most of the church is aware of my condition and I really, really don't want to bring attention to myself. At home I can lay down like a dead fish out of water and no one knows I'm floundering!
Reading a book, watching TV or sitting at my computer would have never been on the top of my free time list before POTS, but I've learned to settle for this almost reclusive lifestyle. I do have a few exceptions that seem to fit in my comfort zone. I have an amazing pair of friends who come to my house once a week for sharing and prayer, and a once a month card making night. I will continue to push myself to go to church, God calls for us to commune with one another and I know I can't do this alone. Now if I become a horder and my home unlivable and you don't see me for weeks, please do an intervention.
Always inspired,
Michele the hermit
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