Purposeful Isolation Research Paper

My mind was going one thousand miles per hour, those words haunting my head. Hot tears flowed down my face as the words sunk in. I slumped in my seat feeling exhausted and too cold for this warm house. My father’s arms reached for me, trying to comfort me. He wouldn’t understand the mental loss that was turning into physical pain. My chest heaved for air, trying to get this drowning feeling out of these thoughts that envelope me bringing a soft cloak of anxiety. “Not again, please.”

When if fact the word just simply means to have space. However when you isolate yourself from contact of any kind it then becomes negative. Even though the word isolation has a negative connotation the word is not always bad. If anything I think the word is misinterpreted to be negative, honesty I think it should have a neutral connotation. Alas that’s just my opinion, It doesn’t mean it’s correct.

My breathing intensified as I heard his heavy foot steps on the creaky wooden stairs to the basement. I looked around panicking. I could practically see my breath in the stale cold air of the grungy dark basement. The floor was cold and made of concrete, walls made of brick, no windows to see out. The only furniture was a few dusty shelfs, a old mattress on the floor, and the chain attached to the handcuffs around my bruised wrist. Oh how bad they hurt.

I can’t be this person anymore. I can’t lead this life. It hurts too much. I’m tired of loving, I hate you and I’m tired of hating I love you.” She whispered softly with a calming voice, though filled with sadness. The melody seemed to just flow out of her like a mountain stream tumbling up and down over weather-worn rocks just the sound of her voice made the room feel colder. Gritting my teeth and forcing myself to stand it was my turn to look away and study the white walls. I shook my head bewildered. The devil wasn’t finished yet with wrecking my life. I opened my mouth to respond, hoping to repair the damage, but nothing came out. It felt like my vocal cords were paralyzed. Ingrid sat there thinking, the renewed silence between us surpassed the previous one in its length and weight. Then some force greater than the craving for a drink hit me. I could feel it pressing on me like the compounded gravity inside some inescapable black hole. I willed a breath into my lungs hoping that fresh air might relieve my sense of suffocation from trying to absorb everything Ingrid had just told me, struggling to put it into some sort of order and context. It seemed forever before I managed to exhale. Ingrid finally stood up; upset she stared at me with a blank, uncomprehending

Walking down the halls that were brightly painted should perk your spirits up, but I was shaking and couldn’t breathe the whole way. I understood what was happening; I was having an anxiety attack. When this happens, it feels as if the room will swallow you whole and take you into the dark. You have no control over the situation; no one can help you when you're already almost gone.

There are millions and millions of people living in this world, and every single person has a relationship with others. People almost always develop a strong bond or relationship with at least one other person. Practically one of the first relationships to develop is that of a parent and child. Having relationships and connections with others is important because everyone needs someone in their life, and being connected with others helps build one’s success.

After another eternity, I give up. Stomping up the stairs, I get madder and madder. I turn into the hallway. My face is probably turning red. I turn my doorknob. Steam must be coming out of my ears. I flop onto my tiny bed, with the flower bedspread that I hate. I am starting to sweat. It feels like it’s a million degrees in here. I open the window, and to my relief, a breeze comes in.

Since the beginning of time it has been human nature to seek community and inclusion, over isolation and separation. We as a species have a need to belong, and it has been theorized that we are fundamentally pack animals. However our ideology of community can harm the individual, putting them at risk of becoming a drone for “higher ranking” members of the group. Lacking free thinking, and only reviewing choices or decisions as a group, limiting the individual's liberal cognitive functioning. But the group as a whole is also at risk of becoming biased, viewing other groups with different ways of thinking, life, or even as simple as skin color as inferior. This correspondingly will lead to the unfair treatment and bigotry of others, and

The exhaustion hit so hard that even attempting to remain with my eyes open turned into a struggle. My whole body felt achy after a hard day’s of school work, constantly staring at a computer screen and typing away, just to complete an essay. My pale white hands, frozen by the air conditioning blasting on high, were holding on to the steering wheel like a person gripping the edge of a cliff, hoping not to fall into a dark abyss. My brain wanted to surrender and finally remain in the sleep that I kept dangerously drifting in and out of. I took a glance outside, the road seeming meek. I felt maybe I should slow down so I do not lose control of the wheel. I glanced at the clock as it lit up my face in a blue kind of color, it read 10:01 pm. My

Cold wrapped around my body as I stepped onto the main platform at the waystation. This is pretty much the only human operated system anymore since robots were running pretty much everything now. The walls were covered in posters. Each one of them had a picture of some place that looked very beautiful, and calming, but things aren’t always as they seem to be. I wasn’t quite sure where I was going, but at that time I really didn’t care. People gathered all around with their belongings as the train crept to a halt and blowed my faded burgundy jacket. I noticed that I had forgotten to bring anything. Oh well. I hesitated on leaving at first, but just thinking about what had happened made me walk into the train faster. I, Alessia Carter, was really

Many people fear the word solitude, and some find comfort in the idea of being alone. Their are many advantages to isolating yourself that most do not see. Solitude allows you to grow in peace, in a way that allows you to grow in peace, in a way that society would not let you. In isolation you find it easier to do things without fear of judgement, there is no limit. Rebekah Elle from the hufington post stated “Being alone gives you time to think clearly, focus, dream, be those things that push you.” Solitude helps you utilizes your independent capabilities. Withdraw from society helps you believe in yourself. U.Kirbark from a Redditt post stated reasons why isolation is a benefit to her “ I want to travel, educate myself and better the enviorment

She barged the door as she entered the house. It was as if a wave of despair followed her across every room she went to. Grumpingly, she headed straight to her room; she threw her school backpack and her binder on the bed. Her body was drained with stress and even she knew that she couldn’t continue this work any longer. The school year was coming to a close, as all the finals and presentations were being pushed forward. Her mood, her attitude, and her way of talking told everyone the amount of distress and anxiety she was in.

Days passed by with no meaning. I don't remember a life outside of this place, maybe I had forgotten what it felt like. Here I was trapped in this box, trapped for life.

Julie felt her head heavy with dizziness, as if all the strength had drained out of her body. Questions stacked in her brain: Why am I here? Why am I here? Yet her intense headache prevented her from thinking hard. Despite her listless condition, she attempted to sit up in bed, but immediately felt an excruciating pain in her left leg. Subconsciously, Julie groped for her leg. She felt the rigid plaster, and jerked her hands back instantly with a start.

I reached the decrepit staircase leading up to the floor above; the never-ending staircase seemed imposing and baleful. As I began to climb, I caught my foot on the bottom step and lurched forwards, bashing my knees against the splintered step. Fuck. My chest heaved rapidly; it felt like it might tear out of my chest. The stairs creaked as I began again to trudge up each board, limping slowly. With each laborious step, I maintained a vice like grip on the railing.