Lost In the WildernessI have always dreamed about running away.
I did once when I was five. I never made it out of thegarage, although I managed to hide out there for most of the day. BUt then my parents called my grandparents, who called their friend -the mayor, who called his friend the police cheif, and DRAMA ensued.
When I was teen I kept 2 bags packed and ready to go, with a pair of pants, two t-shirts, a light fold up rain jacket, some toiletries, and some non-perishable food. One bag stayed in my room, the other was at my best friends house (later to be moved to my car when I got one).
My best friend and I would go to the library and research places using the atlas, US maps, and the internet. We researched climate, populations, etc, trying to determine the best place to go when we did run away. We did not want to be homeless children on the streets, we wanted to be alone in the wilderness.
When we chose some spots, we spent a god awful amount of time researching the local flora and fauna for food sources and dangers. We researched howto set traps for small game adnd birds, how to build a housing structure (based on the local American Indian stories), learned to make fire without matches or a lighter.
We were serious. But we never ran away. It was always this dream, hovering there.
Now, I am an adult. I live with my parents because it is necessary for someone to be with my mom at night, and because it is mutually beneficial, esp in the financal categories.
Those dreams of running away never left. They have gotten stronger and stronger over the years, although they are a bit more sophiticated than they were.
I want to buy some land out in the middle of nowhere and build a little cabin that is mostly self-sufficient so I don't have to see anyone if I don't want to. I want to be a hermit.
I ask my self what I would be running away from, and the answer is always the same - ME.
I often think of one of my favorite quote:
Very often a change of self is needed more than a change of scene. -- Arthur Christopher Benson
I understand that leaving, running away won't change anything for me. My past will be my past, regardless of where I live. My brain will be my brain. My pain will be my pain. I cannot leave it behind somewhere.
ANd I am not willing to run away into a bottle again, into the drug ridden, alchohol haze that let me forget it so long ago, because now I know that only adds to the pain.
I want to run away.