Struggling to Be

Today, I’ve been wondering—why is it so hard for me to go out in public? I’m not talking about just social events or large gatherings. Even simple tasks, like donating plasma for extra income or attending church in person, feel overwhelming. And yet, when I’m alone, I’m content. I have what I need, and I don’t feel lonely or depressed. So why does stepping outside feel like the end of the world?

Right now, I’m homeless. I’m staying in a DV shelter, and even here, I feel safer than I do out in public. Even though my space is the size of some peples closets, I still have a sense of control—something I lose the moment I step outside. I look back at my life over the past 50+ years, and I realize that I’ve never truly enjoyed going places. Even when I had a home, I avoided public spaces. I do my grocery shopping through pickup orders. The only place I feel somewhat comfortable going is the farmers market—specifically right before closing when there are hardly any people around. Otherwise, my happiest, safest place is anywhere I can be alone.

But now, as I prepare to go back to school for in-person classes on Monday, I worry. Will I be able to handle it? What if there’s conflict or confrontation? My instinct is always to run away. And with 12 more years before I can retire, I ask myself: How will I survive? What kind of work can I do that doesn’t force me into spaces that make me feel this way?

I wrestle with whether this is a lack of faith. I know that my Abba protects me, watches over me, and won’t give me more than I can handle. But I still feel scared. I feel it most on Sunday mornings when I’m all set to go to church. I long to be there in person, to connect with a small group, to worship in community. But the moment I have to get dressed and physically go? I back out. Every time.

Is this because of past trauma? Is it because of all the people who have let me down? Is it simply how I’m wired?

Or maybe… maybe I’m just in the wrong place. Maybe this town isn’t the safe haven I thought it would be. I still run into people I know in places I don’t expect. Perhaps I need to move somewhere completely new—a city, a state where I don’t know a soul. Maybe then I would finally feel safe.