I’ve never been upset with those around me for not always “being there”. If I’m struggling to show up for myself and battling demons that are even faceless for me I can only imagine the bind my loved ones are in when they can’t help in any meaningful way. Sometimes I am that loved one. And it would be in poor taste to mention that I feel just as helpless.
It always comes back to a one off Tumblr post I made when I was 15 years old: “… some of you may not want to hear this but you have to be your own superhero…”. Ten years later it still rings true for me. And ten years later I think it fuels my propensity to isolate. To retreat within myself for months on end. To maintain good amount of distance even with my closest relationships.
But it’s not all bad. In fact it has been necessary. To cut out all the background noise and face the demons haunting my mind. To discover my true self. To be quite honest I adore my alone time.
I’m starting to think isolation is a response to the loneliness I felt while being constantly surrounded by people.
She Was Here 
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