The Idea of Walking Away (or A Way)


I have been suppressing a feeling deep inside me for the last few weeks.  I simply want to pack up a few things and leave.  I want to walk wherever I end up, sleep wherever I must, eat whatever the Universe provides and never look back.

I guess this is the product of a lifetime of suffering; some self-inflicted and some not-so-much.  You know the line from Eddie Vedder’s “Society” that says, “Society, I hope you’re not lonely without me?”  Well, I know that society, at least the one I currently live in, won’t miss me but for a few moments before moving on the brighter and greener pastures.

I have children.  Some would say they would miss me.  I know they would for a time, but they have a tremendous infrastructure to help them get over whatever sense of immediate loss they may feel.  I will, after all, be replaced in their life someday anyway (at least in part), so I see no real need to be here right now.  Besides, as a great guru of mine continues to tell me, “stop thinking, just be.”  Well, the part of me that is “just being” wants away from here, wants to find himself, and wants to end this idiotic notion that anyone truly loves or needs him.

In fact, the only things that have kept me from packing up my bag and walking are my children.  See, I love them with all of my heart and soul.  Yet, in about a week, I am going to be a part of something that turns their life upside down.  I want NO part of it…for every time I will be acting like it is something I want or endorse I will be lying to them.  I have to smile for them when I want to cry with them.  I have to be strong when all I want to do is fall to the floor and be swept away.  I have to pretend all over again that I am something I am not.

Part of me is saying “Bullshit.  You don’t want this (even if you do want the be healed).  You didn’t ask for this (even if you were blind and stupid).  You didn’t want to become hardly a friend in something that was so much more once. You were forced here and now you are being forced to pretend that the world is rosy when, in fact, it smells like the foulest shit ever produced.”

There is some truth to this.  I have stepped in the foulest smelling pile of shit ever produced and the people I count on the most for support and honesty are trying to tell me how wonderful it smells.  At least they are trying to tell me that it doesn’t smell as repugnant as it does which is, in fact, a lie that only makes it smell worse.  I want to scream “stop lying to me and tell me the fucking TRUTH.”

Of course I realize that to them it may smell quite nice.  After all, a dog loves the smell of his own shit.  They crapped it out, so it probably doesn’t smell bad to them at all.  I am, however, vomiting each and every time I inhale.

Now, before you, the reader, gets all stymied with the “you are depressed” idea, allow me to say that I believe I clearly know my place in the lives of those around me.  I have friends, family, and awesome mentors in my life.  I am sick of being the guy who is not needed and not loved.  I am sick of being the guy who is left, the guy who is treated like he is a demon who needs to be exorcised.  I am sick of guessing what she or they feel about me.  Most of all, I am sick of not feeling good enough to warrant sacrifice and acceptance.

Since this is the season of Valentines Day (the Latin “valens” meaning, in part, “worthwhile“) I have been forced to look at my place in the world with an objectivity created by the reality of the moment.  I am not worthwhile.  In fact, I am being forced today to live my life at the whim of another completely unsure of what tomorrow will bring.  I have no security, no idea, no comfort and absolutely no understanding or acceptance from anyone I need it from.

So, in essence it comes down to this.  Do I continue the torment of being treated like I hardly exist in relationships where I hardly matter or do I walk away?  Do I pack up very few belongings and just set off toward the sunset and see where it takes me?  There is a part of me that smiles at the idea of knowing where I stand for a change and of knowing who I am.  If I am a homeless bum then I am a homeless bum…I need expect or receive anything from anyone that suggests I am anything other than a homeless bum.  I won’t expect acceptance, or love, or compassion or anything.

Yes, there is a certain freedom to that notion.  I won’t need to guess about my place in anyone’s life.  I won’t need to be disappointed in the complete lack of acceptance I seem to experience.  Most of all, I won’t need to be consistently reminded of how I once “caught a bolt of lightning” nor will I have to “curse the day he let it go.” (Name that song for a smile!)  Yes, there is a certain freedom to that notion of being able to decide for yourself that you no longer need to be reminded of the failures, the pain and the fact that you are no longer loved by those you love the most.  I will know where I stand, and yes there is something wonderful about that idea.

I will leave it up to the Universe for now.  I am nervous in the idea for sure…although not for the idea of survival.  I don’t care if I survive actually, I just want a moment in my life where I know where I stand without thinking I know or hoping I am right.  Is that worth dying for?  Yes, in my mind it is even if it is just an experience I get to have for a very short period of time.  Such is my disgust and disdain for my current condition.

I do admit that I am in and out of my disgust.  Sometimes I can feel love from others, and it seems to change the way the room smells.  Sometimes I can see rays of hope peaking through the clouds that brighten the day.  In those moments I see something worth fighting and working for.  Those moments are fleeting however and are usually replaced by the understanding that they probably only exist in MY mind.  I want them to be there so they are there, and once I start seeing reality again they fade and the smell returns.

Well, I am not sure what this afternoon will bring let alone tomorrow.  I can say that I pray for some clarity quite regularly even if I am not sure what version of “reality” is the clear one.  I have little help in determining that and I am on my own.  So…I guess we’ll just have to see where this wave takes me.


Love this Picture!


4 thoughts on “The Idea of Walking Away (or A Way)

  1. Kelly says:

    I just read this and pray that you find yourself and know yourself to truly believe you would be missed by all those whom you have touched throughout your life. Whether you knew them in person or through your writings. Praying that you find Peace my old friend and know that I am here to lend a shoulder if you need one.

  2. Betty LaLuna says:

    Pack your bags and go!!! Give yourself six months and wander aimlessly on a wing and a prayer. It will work wonders for your soul. I did it with a toddler stuck to my hip. I left with whatever fit in my car. If you own a home, rent it out or do what you have to do to secure it. I called it my “mental health break” It lasted a year, the universe was kind. Show no fear, DO IT!!! I had one pot, one pan, two plates, utensils, small radio and tv. I slept on the floor for six weeks until I could upgrade to an air mattress which eventually spung a hole…well, I brought the cats along too. Within a year, my entire apartment was furnished…modestly but there was not ONE day that I did not have what I needed and I learned I only needed a pot, a pan, a small radio and tv…and could probably survive without the latter….DO IT!!! Be blessed…

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