Escape

When I was younger, in my late high school and early college days, I would often repeat the age-old sentiment as though I'd discovered it: "Stop the world. I want off."

For me, it was never a statement about the outside world.  It was always about having too much happening all at once, on a personal level.  Too much to process for someone like me, who needs time to analyze every.little.thing. It was often a springboard for writing something out to process what was going on, and how I felt about it.  It was a sincere desire to walk away from everything, temporarily, to give myself time to breathe, and time to process, and maybe even time to relax a little.

When my anxiety was at its worst, this feeling came back, even stronger, urging me to leave everything behind - run away, and never look back, if that's what it took to escape everything that threatened to overwhelm my senses.

And still, there are times, when the world at large or my little world here seems overwhelming, and I just want to run away.  Stop everything for awhile, and go somewhere and breathe.  The good news is that, now, I want to take my family with me.  Run far away - somewhere warmer - and pretend I don't have to deal with anything.  Even if it's just for a few days.

(I hear tell that this is called a "vacation".  Maybe one day I'll get there...)

Anyway, I'm there.  The world seems at once too big, too intimidating and yet, too small, too confining.  I am restless, in a way that only winter can make me feel.  I have yet to find what cures that restlessness.  Until Spring, I am here.  Trying to find my way, wanting desperately to ignore the world, to hide away, somewhere warm, and play with my kiddos in the sun.

Tired

I haven't really felt much like writing, lately.

Seasonal depression/blues/whatever is in full swing, and it just makes me tired.

Plus, I've messed up my back again, so it's hurting, which makes me tired.  And it has been cold.  Which makes me tired.

And I've made the mistake of reading the news.  Which definitely makes me tired.

We've been doing a lot of fun stuff.  And I want to tell you all about it all.  But I'm tired.

Maybe tomorrow.  Or the next day.

Sigh.