It must be a common feeling or need that people have to build themselves a cocoon. There are some interesting cocoon-like structures that people have built for themselves. 
I like the idea of building myself a cocoon as a way of coping with those who hurt me. A cocoon to communicate that access to me is ending and I am becoming free.
There is a delightful irony in that. Did you catch it?
When I was a child, I would look for cocoons as I walked through the fields.
By the way, a cocoon is not the same as a chrysalis. A chrysalis is specifically for a butterfly pupa. A cocoon is for moths and other insects. A cocoon can be hard or soft. It can either be disguised or purposefully hidden. It usually has some portion of it that is made of silk.
Psychidae Moth
Regardless, I used to look for them. When I would find one, I would not disturb it and I was careful not to hurt it. I would wait to find the tiny pieces of it left after it was broken open and the insect inside was gone. Finding it like that would make me endlessly wonder what had left it.
It is often well-known when it is time for an organism to enter a cocoon. It is time for me!
My cocoon can be tough or soft; it doesn’t matter to me. I want my cocoon to be both disguised and hidden. It will only be known to those few trusted souls who will not damage it.
It will be created by my own hands of the most valuable ingredients I have: hours upon hours and years upon years of sifting, sorting, mining, and cleaning all that is inside of me.
It will be a place of choice. A place in which I am finally free to choose.
This cocoon will not be a lonely place and it will not be a place of forced isolation. There will be a few people there who will love and comfort me.
My cocoon will be cool, breezy, and filled with all of the things that I like. It will not be dark. It will be translucent allowing filtered light to enter.
This cocoon of mine will be a place of protection and rest, but not a place for me to change. It will be a safe place for me to be while the outside world changes. Those who invade and steal from me will change. The cocoon will prevent the invasion of parasites which suck and steal from me. When I leave my cocoon, the uninformed person may think that I have changed. But, it will really be the parasites changing and withering from lack of getting what they want from me. The more time I spend in my protective cocoon, the more the parasites will weaken.
It will actually be a cocoon within a cocoon. Initially, when I enter the deepest cocoon, I will be there by myself. That will be okay. My choice of time there will appear random. But, it will actually have been well-planned. It will have to be well-planned because when I leave the deepest cocoon for the outer cocoon I am going to need a lot of help.
When I leave the deepest cocoon, the parasites are going to sense my presence and will attack viciously trying to get what they want. My outermost cocoon will be strong and protective too. Just as the parasites sense me, I will sense them. I will know of the attacks and it will be difficult for me not to abandon my cocoon completely and let the parasites have their fill of me. But, the longer I am in my cocoon, the stronger I will be.
The people who help me will give me lots of comfort so that I have strength to keep building. They will comfort me so that I know this cocoon building is worth the effort. They will comfort me so that I know that I am worth all of this work. They will comfort me because they love me. Love is the strongest and most protective of all the bricks I have for my cocoon.
Lastly, there is something important that I wonder:
When an insect pushes itself out of its cocoon, does it cry from the pain and effort of the ordeal that was the cocoon or does it feel something else?
I think I will cry.