The thing is, there are things I've wanted to escape.
There has been fear of success and praise. There has been a feeling that I own too much stuff and that I'll never walk alone again. There have been resignation letters to ADF that have been thrown into the recycle bin. There have been job opportunities in other states that I have turned down last minute. There have been friends who have been hurt that I can't repair feelings with. There have been loves that seem lost forever. There are questions I don't want to answer, jobs I don't want to do. There are choices that seem so stupid now, and yet they all seem like I'd do them again if given half the chance. I feel closed in on by my friends more than I feel supported by them.
It's nothing new, feeling like this. I lost 20 lbs. over the past 2 or 3 months. I've gained back about 15 of it, but I'm still obviously skinny. I'm learning to deal with it on certain levels, but not on others.
Running from these things, though, isn't the answer. Getting back to what I think of as "me" isn't easy, but it's important. I'm no use to anyone like this, and I know that. And no one really deserves to be around me in this state. Hell, I know that people who have read my journal in the past are unhappy with the change in tone it's taken since late August.
The funniest thing is, it's not about anything anyone else has done. I'm this way through my own actions, through my own reality-views. This is the me that I've created. And I'm drowning, trying to get away from this thing that I don't want to be. That's part of why I'm not withdrawing, part of what keeps me fighting: I have a personal responsibility to fix this clusterfuck before it becomes a reality that I can no longer escape.
I will be updating with a journal entry put onto paper sometime later today. I need the time to transcribe it, and work is busy with catching up. The journal entry, though, reminds me of a lot of things: there's a clear path out, I just have to trust it, like I always have and did.
Guess what? This is what a journal is for. You're getting it all, kids. Just as you always have. For that, I think I'm sorry.
My mouse is still hovering over the confirmation. . .