I have a love/hate relationship with isolation that has developed over time and squirms like a worm out of my understanding. Currently and for the past 6 months or so I have allienated most of my friends, ignored calls and text and haven't seen any in person. So I'm not behaving great in that regard, and yet I've been worse. Couple years ago I spent a few months just locked in my dorm, just me, the blankets and the screen, doing pretty much the same thing as now and feeling like the safest most comfortable depressed suicidal piece of shit cocoon in existence.
I have this great constant impulse to cut everyone off, close the door, seal the windows, turn the light off, and dissappear into my burrow. And I've followed it through multiple times. I'm halfway there. I crave it, it calls to me, and it makes me feel safe. Yet when I'm there, It corrodes me in such an internal, cold and subtle manner that just makes me want to curl into it more and die. It's betraying. It frees me of the pain but makes the void bigger. It's also inevitably very closely tied with death. It paints it as the ultimate isolation, also desirable, but in a mean way. I don't know how much of all that is just suicidal depression that I would have anyways or whether I could ever indeed be happy isolating like I'd like. All I know is it does Not make me feel happy, it leeches out the pain.