I think I have started to become agoraphobic. I can’t seem to leave the house without worrying. Did I leave the iron on? Did I turn off the dryer? Did I lock the door and turn the alarm on? Were the dogs all inside? Did I…? Inevitably I have to turn around and check to see if my curling iron has burned down the bathroom. I just can’t seem to leave the house without thinking of something I left undone. Most of the time I just don’t want to leave. I want to stay home in the comfort of my cave where I can control everything.
My hubby, in an effort to keep me sane and not have to turn around, has taken to going behind me and checking all the things I have made him turn around for before. I always have a new one though, one step ahead of him. It might say something about me: I am a worrier. I am not happy unless I am worrying about something. I also think that I had begun to use that worry as a reason for not going out of the house.
Writing and staying at home has made the effort of getting dressed and doing something away from home hard for me. I don’t want to leave the house. It’s just easier to stay here, not worry and not think of a million things I should be doing AT THE HOUSE. This may sound strange to you people who get up every day and go to work. I think being comfortable at home and not having to leave becomes a habit, not a good one. So, in an effort to reinvent myself, I have begun a forced trip once a week to do something.
I recently read that travel is good for you and your soul. Meeting new people, learning new things, experiencing new cultures, trying new foods – all broaden our horizons. I pick something each week that I wish to learn about or see and I go. It’s not easy because sometimes I have to go by myself. But I go. The moral of all this is that as writers we must learn new things, see new people and not become hermits chained to our computers. I found myself sitting here alone, writing and never venturing out into the world. It’s an easy trap to fall into and not one I recommend.
Do you ever find it hard to get out of the house? Do you find excuses to stay home? Or, bless my Hubby’s heart, do you have to turn around and see if the iron is on?