Key to Safety

Sometimes I come to a stop. There's nothing I can do. It seems my world is separate from theirs, only suddenly made apparent when a wisp of a breeze nuzzles the corner of the page into a curl. Time in my world has temporarily stopped and I watch in envy as their world continues to bustle. Their pendulums faithfully oscillate, never stopping for breath, never sleeping as the diamonds emerge against the blanket of navy.

Solitude is forced upon me once more and I inhale its heavy darkness with gratitude. The deeper I breathe, the more I feel their intangible world slipping away, incompatible with mine. Once out of sight, seclusion embraces me, dim and drafty, coaxing me to meet my clammy face with the corpse-like leaves beneath me.

This lifeless existence induces in me a silent and effortless euphoria. For I am alone. The very first. The very last. The only.

What causes this transference to emerge? What creates a disturbance in that distant atmosphere strong enough to curl that page? What triggers the ordinary to drift off and abandon the unique?

Fear is in fact a key. It is only this key which has access to the survival instincts which will ultimately save us. Each person has a key. But every single key is different. Every key unlocks a different world, a sanctum customised to that individuals needs.

When I feel fear, my key unlocks for me a world with no risk of intrusion. For it is human intrusion, however well intended which injects me with a poisonous venom. Dread fills my gut and paralysis grips my body and bolts me to the nearest perch. I have no choice but to observe and pray for release, knowing exactly what sacrifice success will bring.

One fear of mine is friendship. And I'm not talking about acquaintances or the friends you talk to occasionally on the phone, or email every other week. I'm talking about those friendships which start off as seeds and grow rapidly into beanstalks. And in the space of the few months since you were first acquainted, arrangements are being made, drinks are being organised, requests to meet 'the family' are placed and a whirlpool of disaster begins to erupt.

I'm not saying that these people aren't lovely people. They are! In fact they are extremely valuable people. But there was a line which was crossed. And they didn't know that this line is far further forward than most people's line. And all of a sudden alarms are screaming at me to "run! run for your life!" And I begin to run - in my head, because by this stage I can't move and am physically unable to stop myself from agreeing to arrangements.

So how can I find a way to reduce the need for this key? Currently the most appealing idea is to attempt to create as accurately as possible the world behind the key.....in this world. To become a hermit living in seclusion. Of course, I'll see my husband and my family. But stepping foot into the world would be a 'no no'. Interacting with other human beings would be forbidden. Appreciating the effortlessness of having to please nobody would be cherished.

Is it more sensible to continue migrating to my fantasy sanctuary and sacrifice the relationships with those I don't fear? Or should one deal with this dilemma in the way others have to? If the latter is preferred, how does one take control? Since sinking predominantly into seclusion is an involuntary survival mechanism.

In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter? If I trust in God, why am I worrying about the solution when He already has that up His sleeve?