Escaping Something

I’ve been thinking a lot about why I want so dearly to escape.

I’m back to driving again, back to getting out on my own, and attempting to bring some sense of normalcy into my life. But I’m running away from something. I don’t even know what that is. I’m mindlessly scrolling my timeline, randomly selecting recommended videos on YouTube, avoiding everything I can and could see as enjoyable and fruitful. I’ll hop between random Netflix shows or a film on HBO Max just to feel like I can get engaged with something that will grab my attention.

I don’t necessarily get where I’m at in my head. Nothing about how the last six months could really be scripted even in my worst dreams, mainly for all of the unexpected twists my life decided to hand over to me. As I write through how I’ve spent all of this time back in the Bay, away from the place I call home, I’m struggling to figure out where I’m gonna end up when I have to go back to school. I don’t know who I even am right now. I’m afraid of not being the writer and reader I’ve been. I’m afraid of not knowing how to balance out my life.

Part of me has been blaming much of, if not all of this failure to be the person I want to be on all of my actions. And I think that part of my brain is onto something. But how can I adequately understand how the last six months have been so tumultuous without being honest that it has in…