...and I don't mean jogging. I mean run away kinda run. I have been praying and doing everything to stifle this urge to flee my current life. What is pathetic is that there is really nothing wrong with my current life. Okay, well, I *do* have a child who suffers from mental illness, which has in turn, made me a complete whack job, but everything else...to others looking in....would seem just peachy.
I, literally, have to get away from everyone and breathe really deeply, like Lamaze, until the overwhelming impulse to bolt passes. It scares me that I even feel this way. My conscience is working overtime to talk me out of insanity. What I wouldn't give to be in my early twenties again. I had my life stretched out in front of me, like a blank slate. Now, I have a past behind me with so many mistakes that it's like a bad essay a high school Lit teacher has hashed through with a red pen.
I am NOT having a pity party for myself. There isn't anything to pity, really. I am not looking for sympathy either. I just feel so stagnantly still, so pointless, it's as if moving would distract me and keep me on a trajectory forward so that I couldn't stay still and think...of all the mistakes, wasted time, fear, missed opportunities, and forks in the road where I so should have turned in the opposite direction of where I did turn.
I feel desperate to be alone, but I can't ever really get that alone time.
(insert expletive here _ _ _ _!)