It is almost like a prison because, though I do most of my work from home anyway, not leaving the house again has really put me in a bummed mood. I feel lately like escaping my mental illness for just a few hours a day is a process. I have become scared again. The “what if’s” and “wasted hours/days” are starting to feel overwhelming. I am alone almost every moment lately.
Before getting diagnosed, the excuse to my groundless fears would always refer to laziness or irresponsibility by those who had never suffered from anything similar. All labels were unrelated to an actual problem. And they all were my fault, apparently.
Don’t get me wrong, I tend to revel in being an introverted loner, but at the same time, I often wonder late at night if things could be better on the road to recovery if I had someone by my side.
I envy the fantastic bloggers who use their real names because they can be true to themselves, but I have found the same level of success writing anonymously or with a pseudonym.