Imagine you’re a burgeoning agoraphobic and see this whole world where your life used to be. It places one on the race track of the house; burning holes in the carpet.

Now, imagine you’re one who knows someone like that. Is it reasonable to watch this person climb further and further away from everything possible out there? Or is it better to put out a helping hand and say; “I want you out here.”

The closet agoraphobe who thinks, the window of their computer gives the semblance of living; is a conduit for pain dragging them farther from those who truly care. The problem stems from the fog of pain in the eyes of the dearly departed; from active life; and is blind to those that might fight for them.

Life is a measure of difficult upon difficult but for the man or woman who enters this life; home becomes a prison simply waiting for the one who has the key to unlock the cell.

Where is the one who has the will and insight to see the pain and not say; “That person just doesn’t care.” The one with this pain sees it and falls farther from sight. The one with this pain knows their problem but without the anchor provided by one stable enough to fight; life is quicksand slowly pulling them down.