1. cause (a person or place) to be or remain alone or apart from others.
I isolate. Yup. I admit it. I isolate.
If I’m depressed, I isolate. My depressive episodes are all-encompassing. They are brutal and ruinous and each one that I escape relatively unscathed makes me question whether I’ll survive the next one. And I know the next one is coming… at some point. Let’s face it, when you can barely get out of bed, brush your teeth, shower, change your clothes, or be bothered to clean your house the last thing you want to do is see (let alone entertain) another human being. So you isolate.
If I’m manic… well, I don’t typically “isolate”, but I have learned that I need to avoid socialization as much as possible when I get really wound up. I have a tendency to overdo it with everything I do when I’m spun out. Spending, drinking, talking, every other “ing”. It’s easier to stay home and do stuff to keep myself busy: filing, cleaning, sorting, writing, more cleaning. Even if it isn’t easier, sometimes I get so distracted by what I’ve got going on at home that I just…. stay at home. It’s really better that way. Going out can get me in trouble.
Isolate. Whether it’s purposeful, accidental or outside of my control, it happens when I’m high or when I’m low. Basically, if I stray anywhere away from my baseline, I isolate.
People have a tendency to take it personally when this happens. They shouldn’t. I’m not avoiding you. I’m not hiding out from you. I’m hiding out from me and the bad choices that I have a tendency to make when I get like this. Or maybe, in the case of my depressive episodes, I’m hiding out from life~ from all things that remind me of living.
I guess my point is: It’s not you. It’s me. Cliche? Yes, I know. Truth. Absolutely.
If I’m acting weird, it’s me. If I disappear for awhile, it’s me. And even though I’ll likely politely decline, an invite every now and again does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.
(Aahh, the joy of being friends with an isolating, occasionally slightly unstable introvert….)