The Isolation

Have you ever gotten in trouble as a kid and had to go sit in your room, away from everybody, as punishment?

That’s what a season of my life felt like.

It was like I was losing people left and right. Relationships that once felt solid just… weren’t anymore. And it wasn’t just people. I was losing parts of myself too. The way I thought, the things I wanted, even my interest in things that used to feel normal to me.

It got quiet. Too quiet.

I felt lonely. And if I’m being honest, I still do sometimes. Because when so much changes, you can’t help but think about what’s no longer there.

There were moments when my bank account was so deep in the red, I just knew I’d never be able to afford a pack of gum again. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch… but I was going through it.

Every time I thought I had things under control, something else would fall apart. As fast as I put out one fire, another one would start. Some days it hit so hard I couldn’t even get out of bed.

So I sat in it. The solitude felt safer than anything else.

And in that silence… that’s when I heard from God the most.

Crazy, right? Because at the time, I felt like He had already left me. I even remember thinking He had the worst timing. Like, why speak now when everything already feels like it’s falling apart?

But that’s how it was.

My thoughts were loud during that time. The good ones and the bad ones. And I didn’t always want to deal with real life or show up the way I needed to. Especially for the people who mattered most, my boys.

But I had a conversation with them.

I told them what I was going through. Not every detail, but enough for them to understand that I wasn’t at my best. And I made them a promise. No matter what headspace I was in, I would show up for them.

And I meant it so much that I gave them permission to hold me accountable. Respectfully, of course. But I wanted them to know their voice mattered, even when it came to me. Because if they can learn to speak up at home, they’ll know how to advocate for themselves everywhere else.

And that mattered to me.

Now, as hard as that season was, isolation wasn’t all bad.

It forced me to slow down and really see who I was becoming. It made me face things I had been avoiding. It taught me how to recognize God’s voice, even when I didn’t want to hear it. And it pushed me to find healthier ways to deal with my anxiety.

I won’t say I have it all figured out now. But I’m not the same person I was when I first sat in that “room.”

And maybe that was the point of the isolation all along.