Agoraphobia

 I’ve been scared to leave my house lately. Sure, I have “safe spots”—my sister’s house, Jason and Grace’s place—but the only place I truly feel at ease is home.

When I venture out, my heart races, and I become hyper-vigilant. My inner voice starts whispering worst-case scenarios. I’ll be looking at bananas, and suddenly I’m convinced that a man nearby is a threat, thinking, “He has a gun,” or “He’s going to hurt me.” I know it’s irrational, but my nervous system doesn’t care; it’s in fight-or-flight mode.

I remind myself that I’m safe, that it’s all in my head, and that I can face challenges. But my body doesn’t listen. I’m always on guard, struggling to concentrate. Shopping becomes a battle—I’m more focused on scanning for “danger” than on the items in my cart. I can recite the quickest route to the exit without even thinking.

Home is my refuge, but that comfort comes with a cost. I miss going out to eat with my family, those spontaneous trips to Target, and the laughter of family gatherings. Most of all, I still kick myself for missing my brother’s baby shower; the anxiety was just too much, and I couldn’t push myself out the door.

It’s frustrating that this fear has taken control of my life. I never imagined I would let something like this hold me back. I used to be carefree and happy, but now I often feel like a bird trapped in a cage, yearning for the freedom to explore the world outside.

Maybe one day, the fiery Courtney will return, the one who embraced life with open arms. I hope to reclaim that part of myself.

If you resonate with this struggle, know you’re not alone. I’d love to hear your experiences—together, we can find strength in our stories and support one another through the challenges. 

Until you read again.