Shut-In

I discovered a part of myself recently that reflects a long-neglected aspect of my humanity, and a deeply ignored part of being alive. I guess the Covid virus stimulated a dormant sensitivity, that awakened me to a long-standing inequity. It has been painful to realize that I am part of an invisible minority, that is constantly experiencing unconscious prejudice. Worst yet, my discovery included the recognition, that I have been an unwitting participant in keeping this population invisible. 

I started being a house bound person nearly 5 years ago, when I realized I could no longer drive. My car, driver’s license, insurance and visibility went away. I became a non-entity, no longer worth saving. As I became less able to participate in the ritual gatherings of the mobile throng, I became more and more isolated, and less and less visible. Now, I exist in only a few minds, and may not even be a statistic to the rest of humanity. I am a bad combination; old, disabled and shut-in.

I’ve been disabled a while now. In the beginning of this experience I had to learn to face the prejudice against the disabled that is everywhere. That was hard, but the hardest part, was facing that same prejudice inside myself. I’ve overcome that social ignorance, or so I thought, then I recently realized a deeper dimension of that ignorance. Now, I have to come to terms with the ease with which I go along with ignoring my own humanity.

They say, “out of sight, out of mind.” I can personally attest to the veracity of that remark. We, who are house-bound, shut-in by circumstance, are out of sight, and thus, too often, are ignored. There is something deeply distorting about living in the invisible realm. It is too easy to believe that one is not worth being seen, known, valued, or saving. The pain of not being considered is merciless. I am wheelchair bound, but that is an unfortunate circumstance, compared to being so far out of sight, that I don’t exist.

I learned over the last couple of years, that no state or county agency takes responsibility for tracking and helping shut-ins. No city departments, including the police and fire departments, know about, and assist those who are vulnerable enough, that they cannot help themselves. Even non-profits, which generally try to help those who can’t help themselves, offer no assistance to those unfortunate enough to be shut-in. Shut-ins are amongst the most isolated humans on the Earth.

I find myself angry about this injustice. I am a taxpayer, but evidently one that isn’t worth much. I’m savvy enough to know that my anger is a secondary emotion. Below it resides the true feeling. Below my anger is disappointment. I am in grief about living in a world that practices such carelessness. I ache knowing such aloneness, not only for myself, but for our kind.

A few days ago I had another realization about this. This one was more painful and disturbing than the earlier ones. I have been an advocate for the importance of an inner life. I have spent my entire life praising the inner dimension of being human. I believe that that is our real human genius. But, when I realized that a shut-in, is someone who is cut-off, trapped with their unappreciated insides, I melted into a pool of tears. Is this what human life has come to? Are we so divorced from our own inner being — that we can tolerate letting go of inner mystery?

Being a shut-in now has a special poignancy, an uncertainty about our kind. It isn’t so much about being alone now, it is about the extinction of human sensitivity.

Feeling the weight of this uncertainty breeds in me a deeply corrosive loneliness, the opposite of solitude. I ache continuously.