Escape Route

These weird habits I have. I can trace them back to where they come from, and where they come from is not the topic of the post.

The topic is “Escape Route”. I’m in the office, bathroom, kitchen…anywhere I can be cornered and I’m always looking for an escape route. Especially if someone is anywhere near me. How fast can I get out of here, where is the exit…is that window unlocked…does that window open?

The things our minds do to protect us. What a remarkable organ. Escape routes. It isn’t just physical, I look for emotional escape routes too. This person is talking to me, how do I politely stop talking to them. What if they never stop talking? What if they ask me to do something I don’t want to do? What if…what if….what if…. it is endless.

I used to disappear for days, weeks. I miss the days when I could just stop paying my phone bill so no one could contact me. I miss the days when I could get in my car and no one could find me. I’d sleep in my car. My car, my escape. No more. Every fucking thing I own tracks me. My family worries when I’m unreachable. Exactly three people know I am suicidal. and not any of them would stop me. Because they respect my decision to leave on my own terms. To have my escape route, even if it is permanent.