I’ve been doing a lot of rewinding and reminiscing lately, looking back through years of my journal entries. If there is one recurring theme I’ve noticed, it’s this: the longer I live, the more I just want to be detached from people. I don’t mean forever, or even all the time.  I just mean people wear me out more than they used to.  I need more breaks from them than in the past.

I find that absorbing all the problems and heartaches of the world’s people leaves me mentally exhausted.  I am easily overwhelmed, and my brain often short circuits because there is just so much to do, fix and think about. Between the nonstop drama of family, business worries, and the general cruelty of the world, I frequently find myself longing for a few days of peace with no one riding my $#@ or with anything to worry about. 

I’m sure I’m not the only one who fantasizes about going  somewhere that no one knows who you are, let alone expect anything from you.  Somewhere to escape the cruelty and unpredictability of the world .. Just myself and my thoughts, writing or thinking about my next move in my quest for peace.  But since I can’t completely disappear into an alternate universe just yet, I built the next best thing: a digital fortress.

It started out journaling 25 years ago, then evolved into a way to organize business ideas and plans, record things I want to read, watch or listen to and even a list of my favorite social media accounts. But it has evolved into a massive, interconnected system of databases using Airtable, Memento, and spreadsheets. Some people might look at my system and think it’s overly complex or even eccentric, someone even called it “junk data”,  but for me, it is a survival mechanism.

Here is why I built it and why I retreat into it:

I have a tendency to word vomit all over people and bombard them with a million questions if I’m not careful.  It’s off putting to most, and I’ve been called out on it more than once. In the past, when I was feeling anxious or excited, I would overshare. I almost always ended up regretting the texts I sent or what came out of my mouth, cringing at my own words later.  People are quick to judge, and I realized that my thought journal keeps me from posting or texting things I may regret later. So it goes there, never crossing my lips and far removed from the consequences of it not landing right with the person I sent it to. It satisfies the need to constantly interact without the consequences of dealing with actual people.

Dealing with people is exhausting. You invest time and mental energy into a connection, only to be ignored for days, given short, dismissive one-word answers, or hit with a rude “Like I said…”. Being ignored gets on my nerves, I’m certain I’m not the only one who feels this way.  I realized I was just setting myself up to be hurt and abandoned yet again.

By documenting these interactions in my system—sometimes placing people on my “shit list” or marking them as “restricted” or “ghosted”—I create a boundary. It gives me a record of exactly why I shouldn’t fall back into another fantasy relationship or let anyone toy with my emotions again. It helps me maintain my distance and remember that the less I say to people, the better. People hopping in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient just doesn’t work for me… I don’t think I’m alone in thinking this.

When life gets chaotic—when the world seems to be going to hell and back, or the latest drama of the day is driving my anxiety through the roof—I turn to my databases. I turn to my digital fortress.  Logging details, whether it’s an idea for a “Hotel Deposit Database,” tracking my time on Clockify, or just writing down my thoughts, it all gives me a sense of having control of something when everything else feels completely uncontrollable.

In the end, my fortress keeps me safe, keeps me focused, and most importantly, it gives me some $#@& peace.