Running Away

H

This week I have been traveling and strangely I feel the most comfortable in the places that are completely unfamiliar.  The familiar places are uncomfortable and surreal, like a waking dream.  With all the current turmoil I feel disconnected and detached.  Perhaps the unfamiliar forces me to pay attention to my surroundings where as the familiar allows me to paying less attention to the world around me and instead focus on my worries.  The other day as I drove the M62 motorway to the Preston England temple I was so drawn within my own thoughts that missed my exit and found my self heading for the Manchester airport rather than the temple.

Exhaustion seems to be the primary emotion that I feel.  Physical exhaustion and mental exhaustion.  My emotions are like a raw nerves and my moods swing wildly and unexpectedly.  I try to be optimistic and hope for a good prognosis but the realities seem to be overwhelming.  Like someone wandering in a maze I see dead-end after dead-end.  I am feeling like there is no way to escape.

The hardest part is how this affects Julie.  She is terrified of the prospect of me dying.  She seem to be as emotionally and mentally exhausted as me.  I worry about her and what would happen in the event of the worst.  Of course this fear is an undercurrent in every conversation we have, but “the rules” forbid either of us from acknowledging its presence. It just hangs in the air, unavoidable but unspeakable.

What I want right now is to take Julie and runaway.  Runaway from my life, my job, my responsibilities and this diagnosis.  Some place far away where none of this can find us.  Someplace calm and peaceful free from this burden where we can enjoy our life and each other.  I am not talking about luxury, I just want time, peace  and Julie.   Unfortunately experience had taught me this will never work.

When I was about four I was upset by something and decided that I would run away to my grandma’s.  She lived about 100 miles away and I was sure that was far enough to solve my problems.  So I hopped on my tri-cycle and headed on my way.  Of course my mother was frantic and searching the neighborhood but I had a mission and I new the way.  About a half-mile from home I stopped at the service station to get gas (this is what Dad always did when we went to grandma’s).  Now this was the old style of service station from the sixties when a service station was just what its name implied.  Someone came and pumped your gas, cleaned your windows, etc.  Well the owner clearly new that something was amiss and called the sheriff.  He started asking me questions about where I was going and how to get there while we waited.  The Sheriff came loaded my tricycle in his car and asked me where I lived.  By then I had forgotten about my problems and to his surprise I guided him right to my house and my panic stricken mother.

As much as I want to runaway now, I know it will probably have the same ending.  Sooner or later I will be back to face the things I am trying to escape.

So, I guess I just have to hold Julie a little more.  Tell her I love her more.  Maybe we go on a picnic, or a walk or date.  Maybe, just maybe we can find a way to runaway for a few hours at a time.  Maybe that will to be enough.