Isolation for One
by Brian Brestovac
part 1
COVID-19 has been great! It’s made me fit in better, and I hope it goes on for longer.
When people complain about quarantine or self-isolation, I have a little laugh to myself. What’s so good about roaming about with everyone else? My psychologist has been trying to convince me for ages to get about and leave my room at home. I have done a bit of that, but I can’t see the attraction; people aren’t all that nice and, even before COVID, I didn’t like the idea of contamination from them.
Before COVID, people would cough and sneeze everywhere, without consideration for anyone else. Influenza killed four hundred thousand people just a year before COVID, and no one batted an eyelid. COVID sure has taught a lot of people a few lessons.
I really don’t like the daytime; at least not for going out, it’s okay for just being outside on the patio for a while, but for going farther out, it’s horrible. I understand that lots of people love going outdoors, mixing and socializing, but I really don’t get it.
I keep telling my psychologist that I don’t like the openness; it makes me feel exposed, unsafe; there seems like an endless expanse in all directions. I just can’t escape it unless I go inside and, if I’m surrounded by people, I feel even less safe. I have tried, but the anxiety just gets to me. At home in my room, I’m comfortable, safe; the walls cocoon me. I don’t really need to go out at all. Home deliveries have made life great at home; I can get whatever I like.
At nighttime, I am a bit more at ease with being outside. I know it sounds strange, but there it is. I think it’s because of the darkness; It seems to close me in. I don’t see the expanse around me and, depending on where I go and if there are fewer people around, I feel more at ease.
I remember when I first told my psychologist that I feel better going out at night and that I was less anxious. She seemed thrilled. “Anthea,” she said, “this is real progress!”
Typical psychology talk. I almost laughed when she said it. I was encouraged to go out more, with the idea of transitioning to earlier evenings and, eventually, to daytime. Anyway, I agreed to continue going out at night. I also agreed to try to get closer to people, when I did.
I started by going around the edge of crowds and trying not being so far away. I would try once or twice a week to go out, but I hated it. Anyway, figuring that I had committed to putting in an effort, I decided to continue the attempt. I understand what it was all about: joining society, taking part, being productive and happy. However, I felt it was all just a load of crap for the most part. I was happy isolating at home, I could be productive on my computer and I was happy. I was in contact with people on line.
When COVID happened, a lot of people were staying home, in isolation, just like me. I would join in on chats about what to do while self-isolating. Being an expert made me feel important! It made me feel good that everyone else was doing what I had been doing for a long time; we were all in it together.
The best was when restrictions were at their heights: no restaurants, pubs or gatherings. Everyone was like me. I was not the odd person. I know it sounds selfish with people dying, all the illness, the restrictions and the fear but, for me, it was the best time. Feeling as if I was the same and that I was part of the same circumstance, doing the same sort of things made me feel connected. It was a good feeling.
I told my psychologist that I wouldn’t try going out so much because of COVID. She knew I was just using it as an excuse, but what could she say? So, for a while, I didn’t go out even at night.
* * *
Then the restrictions were eased and, although the sensation of being the same as everyone changed somewhat, it still felt decent. I could stay at home in isolation and people would understand. No one thought it odd. Restaurants and pubs opened, with limited numbers. This didn’t affect me directly, not straight away, but it would affect me soon.
I felt obliged to start going out at the request of my psychologist, who kept harping on about it being a good time to start going out, with social distancing rules, of course. That was a laugh; keeping social distance is standard for me. She did make one further request and that was to go to different areas to challenge myself. I started to go out in the evenings, after dark.
I decided, on one occasion, to go the beachfront. There was a long stretch of beach, and part of it was a walkway, which was some distance from shops, pubs and a nightclub. There was a lot of light there, but I could walk on the further side of the walkway and for the most part keep out of sight. At least not be noticed.
At one end there was a car park, which stopped at some sand dunes. This part of the walk would be easy, since there were only a few streetlights around and it was mostly dark. The idea was to start at the car park end, walk past the section that had more human activity, which I knew would create some anxiety, turn back towards to car park end, get back into my car and go home. This seemed an ambitious but reasonable plan.
I started at around nine o’clock in the evening, well after the sun had gone down and drove to the car park at the beach. I parked in a bay right next to the dunes in the darkest area I could find. When I stepped out of the car, I felt the uneasy surge of anxiety travel through my body. It started in the stomach and moved to the extremities in a slow but steady wave. I took a moment to compose myself.
The evening was cool but not cold; mild would be the best term to describe it. So, I wore fashionable jeans with black shoes that had a slight heel and a dark blue blouse with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The blouse had a collar, and I didn’t do up all the buttons so that there was a bit of a plunging neckline. It could be said that I was dressed well in a casual way, and I really cannot explain why I did it. I started for the lights and the anxiety grew steadily as I got closer to activity that was all too human.
As I approached the first of the shops, before the first pub, I moved slightly off the walkway and stepped onto the grass along the side, away from the shop fronts. There were quite a lot of people out, mostly young, mostly enjoying themselves, mostly with very little concern for social distancing. I guess they just wanted out from the restrictions.
At first, I was a little angry. Then a little guilt wafted over me; I could be selfish sometimes. I passed the pub and moved slightly more away as I walked past. I could see them all in the beer garden section, mostly in their twenties, similar to me but so different. Drinking, talking, socializing.
Feeling jealous, I at once envied and hated them; envy and hatred go so well together. I wished I were not so aware of myself. I looked at them and was glad they didn’t notice me staring. Part of me wished some guy would come and try to chat me up.
As I passed the nightclub, I could see the start of a few people lining up to go in. It was a bit early for the nightclub, but I guess people just want to get in as much as possible. The girls were dressed in short skirts and high heels; they wanted to trap the males, and the males were all too willing to be trapped. Good old evolution determining their behaviour: no one is fully in control of themselves. Envy and hatred are what I felt.
I stopped to people-watch. Some guys, five of them, left the pub and wandered to the night club. They looked a little casual, perhaps even too scruffy to be going onto a nightclub. All right for a pub but decidedly underdressed for a club. Except one. He had on decent dark blue trousers rather than jeans and a nice yellowy orange-chequered dress shirt. The black shoes also were different to the sneakers worn by the others. His hair was longish, just above his shoulders but covered his neck and, in this respect, he was similar to the rest.
I didn’t get a clear look at their faces. As they entered the nightclub, I stood there wondering what my life would be like if I were different. If I could be like other people, maybe I would meet up with the guy in the blue trousers, maybe we would like each other, maybe... I stopped thinking about it. I moved on.
Further along, more shops appeared, and the number of people lessened, so I started feeling reasonably relaxed. Towards the end of the walkway, I decided to turn around and walk back. I was very relaxed now. My psychologist will be very pleased when I tell her about this.
* * *
I wasn’t very perturbed as I walked by the night club; it seemed a lot easier than when I first passed by. The car park was full of cars and empty of people when I approached it, which suited me fine. Overall, I felt this had been a successful outing, and I was pleased with myself. Then I saw something at the far end of the car park, near to where I had parked my car.
I advanced cautiously and, as I did, I could feel my anxiety rise. I slowed to a tortoise pace, one foot barely in front of the other, taking shorter and shorter steps. It was dark, which I liked, but the visibility was not good and, in this instance, I was worried. Normally I would not want to see very far, happy enclosed in the darkness, but when I saw something odd, when it was unclear as to what it was, at that time, I wished I had more light.
I could see that there were people exactly at the end of the car park where the fence stopped, one person was seated against the end of the fence, and the others were standing around looking at him. I couldn’t hear anything that was said, if anything was said at all.
I should have simply walked back and waited for them to leave, but curiosity and excitement swelled inside me, and I could not go back. Something drove me forward. No one is ever completely in control of himself or herself and, at that time, I was not in control of me. I approached, slowly, tentatively and with exhilarating dread. Perhaps they were criminals? Perhaps they would murder me! The thought of death did not really bother me that much; I had thought of death many times before.
They had not noticed me approaching until I was about ten meters away. One of the men standing glanced over, saw me, tapped his friend on the shoulder. They all looked around and ran into the dunes at a frantic pace. All, except the guy sitting down.
As they ran, I noticed that they were the same group that I had seen going into the nightclub earlier in the evening. The guy sitting on the ground against the fence was the one with the blue trousers, the better-dressed one.
Copyright © 2024 by Brian Brestovac
