Relephant read: Elephant’s Continually updated Coronavirus Diary. ~ Waylon

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This isolation is killing me.

I don’t use that phrase lightly.

I know the power words wield, so I use them sparingly and as accurately as possible—even as an extrovert (call me an anomaly). So when I say this self-isolation is killing me, I mean it from the marrow of my bones. It’s killing my heart, my mind, my self-esteem, my relationships, and maybe worst of all? My spirit.

I feel something dying inside of me, and yet something else is coming alive.

Is this the rebirth? I realize humanity is going through a major shift—a great awakening, as many are calling it. Either way, this is beyond painful—yet again, I find myself in the recesses of my umpteenth dark night of the soul. I am beyond tired, like the rest of the world. I am done.

It feels like individually and collectively we have all been put through the beating of incessant waves that seem to come crashing down, one right after the other, much like the sea during a turbulent storm.

For me? If I get really honest with myself and the world, it was the waves that came crashing down these past few years in unyielding succession: a divorce, a twin flame catalyst that shook my world upside down, family illnesses and tragedies, and an abusive and isolating relationship—all while holding a work-from-home job. I had finally freed myself and moved to a new town to try to start over.

And then this hit.

This virus, or as I like to think of it, a massive shift that is ultimately humanity’s blessing in disguise. I know this. I know this is a time for all of us to start over with our true human nature, our organic design in mind.

It felt like we were—or at least I was—slowly, painfully walking through the broken glass of hell all while consumed in the flames. Was I alone in this feeling? I knew I wasn’t when I read articles, watched YouTube videos, and spoke with friends. But mostly people seemed somewhat okay.

Why was this—our world’s condition—affecting me so incredibly deeply? I don’t even watch the news. But as a highly sensitive soul, I could feel the energy in the air. My oh my, could I feel it.

The fact that I need people to feel energized when in this quarantine has left me feeling completely zapped of life, my power.

People are my power. Charming them, loving them, helping them, doing whatever I can to lighten the load of another. I am an extrovert, albeit a more introverted one, but it still kills me.

God, I feel so profoundly lonely sometimes. So I scream. I dance, I sing, I write, I paint, I reach out, I meditate, I yoga, I…

Can’t seem to escape myself.

It’s so strange. I love myself, and yet I can’t stand myself at the same time. “Is this normal?” asks the extrovert to the sea of introverts probably still reading this.

I know this will end, but in the current moment, it feels so dark and I can’t see through the abyss. I know the key is self-love and a radical acceptance of my situation and the situation of the world. It’s not easy, but little by little, I chip away at the past wounds, the self-doubt, the agony of knowing we are alone even when we are together. Swallowing a million jagged pills to find the healing that I, and countless others on this spiritual journey, am forever seeking.

The path to healing and self-actualization is messy, broken. It’s late-night tears and hysteria. It’s stares into the void asking questions with no answers. It’s the dark birth into the light. A birth of a golden age is upon us. It just might take some time to get there. This gives me the hope to push forward, to answer the call of healing both myself and others.

In the meantime, I could really use a hug or some love. So, I think I’ll start by wrapping myself in a blanket of unyielding self-acceptance, love, and compassion.

I hope you will too.