Held Hostage By Agoraphobia

Agoraphobia. ag-o-ra-pho-bi-a noun 1) extreme or irrational fear of crowded spaces or enclosed public places. Just the word makes me feel ill. I suffer from extreme agoraphobia to the point that I literally do not leave my house. I will go to my doctor if someone takes me only so I can get my medication, and that is all. It’s hard for me to even step outside with the dogs in my own yard. The idea of stepping out my door literally gives me a panic attack.

I was not always this way. I once was quite social. Not extremely so, but I enjoyed talking to people out and about now and then. I used to visit bookstores just so I could be surrounded by all of those wonderful stories and talk to people about what they were looking for, what their interests were. The interaction with people was enjoyable.

I spent years in a severely abusive relationship. I thought I got away from it when I remarried, but then I found out that he did not care for me either. He saw me as a nanny, cook, chauffeur, and errand girl, but not as a beloved wife. I was his servant, as well as his children’s whom were terribly spoiled, and mean. Oh my word they were mean.

I met the man of my dreams once I left. My literal junior high crush. He was a senior then. I never forgot him all the years that life passed me by. We married, and I believed I was finally happy. I was loved. And I was wrong. I admit, my mental health was already not good due to the history I’d already had, but with him…it just snapped.

We live in the same house but separately. He has his room and I have mine. We do not speak and we rarely interact at all, and when we do he is always angry. I still do not know why we changed, but I changed. I could not take any more. I reverted entirely inside and now I cannot find my way back out.

The idea of being around people terrifies me. Literally. I am absolutely terrified to leave my house. I do everything online. Shop, work, everything. Even my delivery guy knows to put my stuff inside my door and not talk to me, but he does always tell me to have a good day, and I like that.

Agoraphobia. Life’s living hell inside your head. The dictionary had it wrong.

by kileegoecke

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