I feel like I don’t really belong anywhere.
That there’s not a place for me to fit into in this lifetime.
Like there’s not really a place to call home.
That’s why I think I wander around the way I do. Why I up and leave without saying hardly anything.
I start to see the pieces of myself that I don’t really like all too much start surfacing.
And even though I try my best to push them back down or let them go, like a ball you hold underwater, they spring back up with more force.
These pieces of me are like a dark blanket that slowly wraps me in coldness and leaves me feeling unlovable.
Fearful those around me will see it.
So, I run.
I run to find the better pieces of myself. To find new sights, new perspectives, new energy. To find reasons for the “bad pieces”.
I run to protect the people I love from seeing too much of those pieces and to protect myself from self-sabotaging.
It’s not that I dislike myself or want to be anyone different. It’s more complicated than that. A type of complicated I can’t put into words.
I call my “running” wandering. Convincing myself and everyone who knows me that it’s good for me. I tell my friends they should do it, to get out of their comfort zone and feel something.
Somewhere along the way, I think it became my comfort zone. Knowing if things go side ways, I can dip out to somewhere new.
I don’t think I’m alone it that. I think we all do something similar to cope with the pieces of ourself we don’t love.
I don’t know if everyone else noticed, but we’re in a global pandemic, so running in an emotional upheaval is a little more challenging than in the past.
Regardless, earlier this week I was bound and determined to wander. To get as far away from my big emoticons as possible. To refresh.
Two hours in I was fighting with myself. About if I was making my emotions worse or better. If this was all just a pattern. The longer I drove, the more exhausting driving sounded.
It started to feel less like an intuitive soul searching trip and more like avoidance.
I turned around. Maneuvering myself into a pointless 4 hour loop. Half relieved that I wouldn’t have to drive longer, half concerned with what to do about the big emotions surfacing.
I still don’t know what I’m doing about it.
I’m trying though. Trying something new.
Getting out of your comfort zone and feeling something new doesn’t always mean traveling to some far away place. Sometimes getting out of our comfort zones is dealing with those pieces of our self’s that make us uncomfortable. That scare us.