Written in the silence of a room that used to be a home, now just a workspace.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
Working from home sounded ideal at first. For someone just starting their career, it felt like a rare opportunity with its flexible hours, controlled environment and zero commute. But now, I’m starting to think it might’ve been a mistake.
Not because of the work itself, but because of what it’s doing to me.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
I’m already someone who leans toward isolation. That’s my default. I feel like working from home has taken that tendency and amplified it to something unhealthy. I spend ten hours a day sitting at my desk, staring at a screen. Once the day ends, I have no energy left for anything else. All I want is to lie down and disappear into bed, as if that’s the only thing I’m capable of.
The next day, it starts again. Same screen, same chair, same cycle.
I can’t seem to gather the courage to go outside. Even the idea of sitting in a café feels impossible, like something people “with a different/comfortable kind of life” do. I’ve tried convincing myself to work from outside for a day, just to break the routine, but all I can think about is how I’d fall apart under the pressure of being perceived, heard and struggling. How I’d feel exposed. That alone is enough to keep me inside.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
Working from home is turning me into some kind of cave creature. And I don’t say that lightly. My world is shrinking. The only real comfort I allow myself is taking a long, hot shower. That’s it. That’s my one act of self-kindness. Everything else feels too heavy.
This isn’t how I imagined “adulthood” would look. And maybe that’s part of why it hurts so much. It feels like I’m watching my world close in on itself, and I don’t know how to stop it.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
You might also like my blabber on Did You Hear That? I Didn’t.
Leave a Reply