8/12/2015 – Day Six.

I didn’t tell anyone I was traveling. I didn’t make some epic post on social media. I didn’t even give a hint that I was going. I wasn’t up to all of it to be completely honest. If I had to be really honest, I really just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want to die, even if at times I felt that way. I just didn’t feel the need to tell anyone anything. It probably sounds stupid and juvenile but I’ve always been so public about different aspects of myself. Just this once, I didn’t want to say anything.

I haven’t been sleeping well for the past couple of weeks. This wave of paranoia hit me like something out of a nightmare. I’ve travelled thousands of times. Thousands of times alone or with friends. This time felt different, that I was hiding from something I couldn’t contain anymore. I thought I was going to lose it in the check-in line. I thought I was going to lose it in security. I thought I was going to cancel this trip right in the airport. If I had it in me, I would change my ticket and fly to a million different places. Places where no one would find me. I am clouded with this idea that we have to tell people where we are and what we are doing, but I just want to get lost and leave. Disappear completely. Disappear in the sights and sounds of places where only few people would find me. As of this point, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend that this is just something that happens to people. At this point in my life, I don’t know if I can survive these feelings. Its haunting my life to the point that I can’t sleep anymore. I am hurting in places, I don’t want to hurt anymore. I am holding on by a very thin thread and at any given moment I will break.

Airports are always interesting places. I have spent a good amount of time at airports. Coming and going, take off and landings. I always felt it was the most loneliest place you could be. You’re never sure if someone’s journey is just beginning or ending. I become fascinated by strangers, their stories and their lives. I could sit and people watch for hours. I could sit down in the countless chairs by the gates and watch people. People on their phones, gossiping with people, people reading books, everything. You almost want to open your heart to these people and invite them in. See who they are and share a piece of yourself. In many ways thats what drives my madness. This need to share a piece of myself and open my heart to people. I’ve been fearful of people hurting me again, that I didn’t realize I was only hurting myself. I go on all these trips to find myself to scare myself. To prove to myself how much I can do on my own. When it’s the comfort of people I really seek. A smile from a stranger, a “good morning” from a neighbor, a “thank you” from a person sitting next to you.

We are all connected by strings and when we least expect it to we cut our strings to be free from everyone. We don’t realize how desperately we need these strings. How we’d stop the world to restring ourselves to all these people. I want to learn to live without these strings and realize I need these strings as much as I need to be free. I want to disappear and I want strings to pull me back to myself. I don’t know. I found myself in my seat on the plane and as we were descending into my final destination, I realized how much I missed the adventure of life. Everything I’ve done in my life had been completely out of the norm of everyone else’s life. I had been feeling guilty of steering off the path, that I was bringing myself down. I missed adventure, I missed different places, I missed what I loved about life. A lot has changed since my last trip, and I knew that. I watched as the plane slowly circled the city and realized I missed the comfort of home and the comfort of people. I needed to be alone with my darkness to realize how much I don’t need a lot of things. Looking down at the city with it’s buildings and cars and people, I felt so insignificant. Harboring all this pain has made me feel like a stranger to many people, but I felt like a stranger to myself. Before I could enjoy the view, I couldn’t help but start to cry.

I don’t know who I am anymore, and I am not sure I ever will.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s