Sometimes running away isn’t running away. Sometimes it can be acceptance that a situation was not healthy and sometimes it is wise to remove oneself before it becomes downright toxic.

I have moved back to my mum’s house. It’s been a long time coming. The final straw was realising that my fear of contamination was being spread to other people. This was absolutely not okay. I refuse to let it spread to other people. Humans need to experience germs, and the ones who can’t expose themselves need intermediate people who aren’t so careful. We need people to tell us to shut up when we ask if they’ve washed their hands since entering the room, or if anyone sneezed near them at work that day, or how many times they washed and rinsed that plate before using it. There’s a part of me that’s screaming as I write this because I would love to live in a little germless bubble for ever, but it is a fact that I need to drill into my head. I keep finding ways to further shrink my world and it is becoming unbearable.

So. I am at my mum’s. With people and dogs and chickens and “fridge experiments” and mud and dust. And I needed this.

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. DysthymiaBree
    Jan 16, 2014 @ 23:43:12

    Well done on doing what you need to do to take care of yourself! I hope it works out well for you.


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