Today I went for a walk without my phone. I know, brave.

It came about because I found myself fed up, overwhelmed and sick with myself for mindlessly scrolling.

I put my phone on the kitchen table with a note to my husband, dropped a pound coin into my pocket and left the house with empty hands and empty ears.

I’ve drowned out my thoughts with podcasts and audiobooks for a very long time. I didn’t trust my brain to be alone with me. Anything could happen – panic attacks, in the old days. It was safer to listen to other people’s thoughts than my own, so I have rarely sat with silence.

Not that it’s silent out there. My walk today sounded like birdsong, slamming car doors, football, trees. I hummed Paramore to myself. I thought about the seasons changing and what other outfits would go with these boots. I contemplated what human means, what I can do to stay in touch with real. I stopped and bought a bag of strawberry jellies for 50p of my pound coin, feeling oddly as if I were going to be asked for ID, with my pockets empty and no device to say who I am.

It is still possible for a person to leave their house with nothing to name them and no way to chase them down. I’m infamously difficult when it comes to communication, but without a phone at all, I’m both invisible and more present as a person in this moment, on this street, in these boots.

Earphones have themselves been a protection for me. The plausible deniability: sorry, world, I can’t hear you. Don’t talk to me, do not approach. I bought giant headphones to discourage people from asking me questions when I’m mudlarking. (Doesn’t work.) Today, an old lady said good morning to me and I could only smile. My brain wasn’t fast enough to make the right words.

I spend a lot of time by myself and I don’t miss people. The humans I love are just as real to me in my head as in my house. Being alone comes naturally to me – yes, originally because it was safer. There’s no risk of saying the wrong thing or being put on the spot when you’re by yourself. No requirement to judge what someone needs and exhaustingly perform. Now, I think I prefer the peace anyway.

Today, I wanted to know that my thoughts aren’t a danger to me anymore. And we got along fine. Half the things I think are just riffing, just play. The other half are steps closer to acceptance.

Psychic resilience has to be built like a muscle and it only gets stronger with practice. Making friends with yourself is surely the first step in any life’s journey. After that, you’re never alone.