I’m not new to quarantine or feelings of isolation over the past year, but damn, it does not seem to get better over time. In August I was sent to Hawaii for 2 months and was required to do a 2 week quarantine in a hotel room there without leaving the room and without access to humanly things. I mean sure, there was instacart and grub hub for food and toiletries, but I was not prepared for 14 days of no access to laundry. Especially because I had brought my TRX and was working out everyday.

I quickly gave up on the pretense altogether. I stopped wearing underwear and I wore the same workout outfit for 2 weeks straight. It was gross! In order to build my mind mentally, I would open the balcony doors to the 80+ degree weather to workout and I would go on the balcony everyday at 11:00 to sun bathe, the perfect moment when the sun would glide across just right, and I would slowly creep left until, by 13:00 the sun was gone and I was promptly cast into shade again. Now, don’t get me wrong, Hawaii was a nice place to be, but restricted to a room you can’t leave… well what’s not so great.

Fast forward to May and I found myself in another two week isolation, except this time I had the liberty of exercising outdoors in Virginia. Let me tell you, I walked so much my legs could have come right off. I listened to 3 audio books in the first week walking up to 9 miles in a day. I listened to Man Enough by Justin Baldoni, Dataclysm by Christian Rudder, and City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert.

I lamented. I found myself in deep thought for the better part of most days. Then at the end of that and one week interacting with people, I found myself halfway across the globe, in Bahrain, back in isolation again. this time with jet lag, restless sleep, and a foreboding anxiety. When I arrived here, the country was in lockdown, it still is actually, and you can’t go anywhere or do anything even at the hotels.

So here I am, back in my head, spiraling downward and outward, and stuck in my thoughts. Not even the technology is relieving it. In my glorified room, I have to call it what it is, a fancy prison room where I toss and turn and bump my head on the headboard in thought as I am overcome with large feelings that move through me at their pace, and at random.

I am looking forward to my introduction back into society, but alas, I don’t know when that will be so I’ll leave you with a starkly beautiful picture of sunset in the desert.