– 3: Isolation Syndrome –
March 21/2020
The first few days were the hardest. But I have slowly become accustomed to the new normal, to the isolation syndrome that has fallen upon our society.
It’s a strange state to exist in; I have always known such a catastrophic event would occur during my time on this planet. My father raised me with the belief that humanity was on an imminent course towards its own destruction, and that my generation would be the one to pay the highest price. I understood from an early age that I would need to adapt to such extreme circumstances at some point, albeit perhaps not so suddenly. I thought I had more time. I thought I had adequately prepared myself emotionally. At least I have in most of the practical and logistical ways.
With my health being so fragile, I had already been practicing masking in public spaces. My utility belt carries the basics of a lighter, a flashlight, a folding pocket knife and a small first aid kit, all of which I know how and when to use most effectively. Having grown up in a rural countryside, these were things that we were taught to carry at all times, and my time spent amongst the illegal raving culture of the early 2000s kept those skills and habits in good service.
But I never imagined just how lonely this new dystopian world would be. It isn’t even my own individual isolation that I suffer from, rather it is equally as painful knowing that everyone else in the western/developed world is feeling this too.
As the days wear on, I find my light slowly fading, my will to exist draining away into this nothing space of human history. I struggle with which I feel more anxious for; my own isolation, or the helplessness of watching others experience it. And I do remember this feeling all too well, it seems. I haven’t experienced such profound isolation since my childhood, when I was kept away from the world, kept out of time as it changed around me. But even then I found my comfort in knowing that somewhere out there was a world full of love, people who loved each other, and the hope that I would someday break free and reach that world.
And now that world is empty. Silent. It’s so quiet at night that I sleep with lights and music on. I put vivid views of scenic landscapes on all the screens. Forests. Mountains. Glaciers. Places almost yet untouched by humanity. The world is still out there, living in itself. Only we’re not in it anymore.
I’m hurting so deeply. More than I thought I would and for all of those reasons I didn’t think I would. I’ve started having nightmares again. Nightmares filled with physical pain. Nightmares about losing those I love, about losing the home we have built together. I’ve woken myself weeping two nights in a row. It’s bound to get worse still without that vital human connection.
Between the nightmares, I lie awake at night thinking far too much. I miss Nights more than I ever have, and we wouldn’t even be due to see each other more than once a week. What would I do if I he, or my dearest Daffyd, became sick? What would I do if I got sick on my travels through the city between them? What if none of this happens and I simply end up sickening my own mind with the paranoia of it all? And what if, maybe just what if the changes somehow start a turn towards something good in this broken world, in our existence as a human species, rather than turn it all to further troubles.
We must begin to hope for something, throughout all of this, or we shall all be lost. I need to find whatever new safe space there will be for us all, in the time ahead. I need to thrive. I need life around me. I need to dance. I need to make love. I need to be loved. And with moments of intimacy so sparse between Daffyd and I, it is my Lover that I turn to when I am in need.
Nights; I’ll be going to see him tomorrow. I know there’s not much time left for us to share those moments of intimacy, not much time left until the restrictions relegate us not only to our common relationships, but strictly to our homes and those within it. With everything we’re losing, with everything that’s changing right now, I’d walk a day through hellfire itself to spend the time in your arms. When you close the door behind me, let’s quarantine the world outside, just for awhile.