A Million Miles Away

If I could just get in the car and drive a million miles away to a place where nobody knows me and I don't know anyone, I would have done it a long time ago. I reckon everyone wants to run away from home at some point in their life. For me, that time is now.

The period from Halloween to New Year's is always a bad time for me. I would give anything if I didn't have to endure the holiday season. So many people seem to love this time of year and think the holidays are full of joy and happiness. For me, this is a time of loneliness, grief, and darkness. There is no joy in this time others view as celebration. I have so much to say about this, but I don't have the time to write it all down and you wouldn't have the time or desire to read it. 

My earliest holiday memories were times of idyllic happiness, family, and presents. Santa always brought me something I wanted. There were happy times and good food with cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Then the procession of funerals began as I watched my grandmothers, great aunts and uncles, and then my grandfather leave this world. 

Suddenly, there was no reason to go back to the town of my roots where generations of family had been born, lived, and died. Cousins and siblings went off to college far away. The year of the last death, I followed in the footsteps of my sisters to a school far away. This was the year when the holidays turned cold.

My mother had died the year of my first holiday season. My dad followed her 32 years later when my sisters and I held our father's hand as his spirit slipped from his mortal tabernacle of clay to receive his eternal reward.

These days I live in a place, far from family, where the cold and darkness of the winter months comes from a source other than just the climate. I never feel at home. There is a distance between me and the people around me. I don't feel like I have a good support system and lately I've decided that I need to find a new circle of friends.

There are those who never respond to text messages or initiate contact. Some are quick to inform me of my wrongdoings, but are incredulous that they might do anything to offend or hurt. Some have become too busy for everyone of their past social circle, so I know it's not just me. Others may be friendly enough, but I always have to make the contact.

This holiday season was worse than any of recent years. When I confided to a close "friend" that my doctor had mentioned the importance of having a support system, she merely shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "Good luck with that." 

I spent Christmas Day alone in bed this year. I decided that sleeping might help a bad day pass faster. No one seemed concerned that I was home alone because I had no other place to go. I didn't bother putting up decorations and tried not to think of the childhood holidays with family, good food, presents from Santa, love, and even some laughter.

I have an acquaintance who shares openly every detail of her life on social media. I've read her posts about all of the adversity in her life only to realize later that so much of my situation is worse. She has repeatedly talked about devoted friends who have repeatedly come to her aid, held her hand, or lent a shoulder to cry on in her darkest hours. Meanwhile, I can't get anyone to reply to a text message.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if I had an accident or health emergency at home. How long would it take for someone to notice the body? Would anyone even notice or care that I was gone? If past experience is any indication, I would have a length wait.

For Christmas this year, I had a list of people who I had planned to give some of my artwork. It gave me a purpose and made me feel like I was giving a personal gift that couldn't be bought at any Big Box store. 

For some odd reason, giving a gift of my art made me happy, perhaps because this is the type of gift I would like most to receive. Then I remembered how alone and lonely I was then. Why should I give a part of myself to people who don't seem to care? So I put away my art supplies and scrapped that idea.

I decided this week that I need to make new friends and forget about the people who do nothing but make me feel like a burden and an inconvenience. I had a conversation with someone today about how to find new friends, a new life. I began making plans, got out the map, and filled up the gas tank to begin that journey of driving a million miles away to some other place.