Thursday, September 12, 2013

Wanting Out.

There's no way to write this blog without just putting the truth out there, so here goes.

The last couple of weeks, I have felt completely and totally out of control. I have felt distanced from friends, been abrupt with co-workers, and responded irrationally to a seemingly unending tide of day-to-day annoyances. I feel like I'm trying to flee from my own skin, I'm so out of sorts.

Earlier this week, I found these images created by Czech photographer Michal Macku. They represent perfectly every uncomfortable and angry feeling I'm struggling with right now. The first photo I saw, with the artist literally coming apart at the seams, captured my own desire to shred my connection to everything and just be gone, away, anywhere, even if only for a moment. It's as if shedding my skin would magically transport me to a whole new dimension of peace.

I realize that sounds so melodramatic and desperate, and that's so much farther off the chart than I am really am. But the idea of being able to step outside of my life for a moment definitely has its appeal.

The second photo was much more specific for me. Who hasn't imagined anonymity, the chance to go out into this world and say and do anything without repercussions or blowback? The desire is strong to engage completely anew without consideration of all of the baggage that I carry. I imagine it would be similar to striking up a conversation with a stranger on a plane, where the option to be completely honest (or creatively deceptive) would be without fall-out or consequence.

And the other side of that possibility draws me, too. Imagine having someone speak to you without presuming to know in advance how you will respond. It would be conversation in its purest form, speaking and actually listening.

Ask me what I truly want right now and I would have to answer honestly, I don't know. Is it to be left alone or to be engaged by others? Is it privacy or company?

Again, pretty melodramatic stuff, I know. It's just where my head is right now. I know I will work my way through it, because I always do. But the process takes its toll. Unfortunately for the people in my life who care about me, the process also takes its toll on them, in that they are aware of my shift in behavior and attitude but are powerless to do anything to influence it.

I will continue to do what I always do in these situations. I will go about my daily routine as if I am fine, and ultimately, "acting as if" will become my reality. I just have to keep pushing on.

And so I will.