I returned from speaking at the Austin Film Festival two Mondays ago, and then promptly went into hiding.
I don’t necessarily think I did it on purpose, thinking to myself, “Ha ha! Now no one will be able to find me!” At least, not this time.
Rather, since I’m an introvert who has learned to act like an extrovert (don’t tell anyone), I returned from the five-day conference completely exhausted and overwhelmed, with a sinus infection to boot.
And upon returning home, I faceplanted into bed and slept.
I got back to writing the next day (it was Day 1 of NaNoWriMo, after all, and Girl In Space isn’t going to write itself!), but I didn’t really return to the world. I had purposefully left my calendar free of meetings for the entire week post-conference, but I found I was also neglecting my email and putting off editing the newest Write Now Podcast episode (which is finally up as of this morning).
To be honest, I still feel like I haven’t really returned to the world. I’m not sure I’m ready to. And I don’t know what to do with that.
Confession time: I was one of the few people who were kind of okay with the Covid-19 lockdown. Disconnecting myself from other people allowed me to slow down, breathe, and focus on my writing without any guilt, interruption, or obligation.
It’s just that… during that time, I lost touch with… you know, the rest of humanity.
And that can’t be a good thing, especially for someone creative.
But I texted friends and family less; I developed my own weird little schedule; I stopped calling my mom every week; I wore sweatpants and hoodies nonstop; I went a couple extra days between showers; I went to bed at 9pm.
And I’m still not really back on top of my email. (Though hey, I am getting my writing done every day.)
I reverted to this state upon returning from Austin. And I’m (embarrassingly? guiltily?) still here two weeks later.
My friend Charlie texted me yesterday and asked if I had talked to anyone about having slipped back into self-isolation, and I said no, but I would. So I’m talking to you. (Hi.)
I think my question right now is, What are we really reaching for, when we reach for isolation? Is it peace? Quiet? Healing? A break from the never-ending hustle? Time to catch up on all the texts / notifications / updates / emails / tasks / projects / books / articles / chores / etc. — a.k.a. all the things?
Or is it something more insidious, like an escape from accountability and/or responsibility? Privacy as we sink into depression? A full retreat from humanity?
Maybe it’s just me, but knowing what is best for ourselves is really hard, and often the methods we choose to self-medicate aren’t necessarily good for us.
While I’m back in the habit of writing every day, I’m out of the habit of connecting with friends, family, and members of my community. Even though I’m an introvert, I love people, and I know that when I am in touch with friends and family members, I feel more connected and fulfilled.
Anyway, I’m back this week, writing you this letter, showered and wearing an actual sweater and jeans, trying to remember how to belong to the world instead of just writing about it.
Words & warmth,
Sarah
P.S. This post initially appeared as a “Dear Creators” newsletter over on Substack. >>