If you know anything about me at all from past posts, then you know I'm an over thinker. I'm a planner, with lists and semi organizational tendencies. I do on occasion have spurts of spontaneity. But those are usually more well constructed and planned out. This was not. Because I was genuinely and literally running away.
I'm not quite ready to tell you from what yet...I will get to that eventually. But I will say that when I left it was not a moment I'm proud of. I left to be quite honest with the idea of getting far enough away and then hurting myself. Again, not a moment or a thought I'm proud of. But all I can say is that we all fall down sometimes...fortunately most of the time we can and do stand up again and keep on moving forward with our lives. But at that moment in my life and sadly even a few others that came after that, I didn't want to get up and just brush myself off...I didn't feel like I could. I didn't want to live in this skin any more, because I felt repulsive and repugnant to myself.
Obviously since I'm not blogging from beyond the grave the above didn't happen. Not that I can take credit for the change in my direction. That came from a friend, who as it also turns out I met right here on this blog about 8 years ago. So I guess in a sort of weird way this blog that I have always claimed was much cheaper than professional therapy, did more than allow me to vent my frustrations and save my sanity... It also gave me a friend who saved me from a stupidity that there was no coming back from.
And that's how a this twangy southern girl wound up in Oregon.