I own one suitcase

I own one suitcase and it sits in the corner of my room beside my bookshelf. Every time I look at it, all I want to do is pack up and leave. I want to take whatever I can fit in the carry on size suitcase and run away. I have no “real” reason for wanting to leave. I just want to.

I can fight and get to a point where I think I am fine and want to be where I am but then out of nowhere that panic will set in and for what feels like no reason I will have this unbearable urge to disappear. I don’t know why. It’s that same feeling that people are having when they say they want to be in a coma. You don’t necessarily want to leave physically you just want some peace. You just need an escape.

I was doing so well. I was until I was sitting at the dining room table scrolling on my phone, not finding anything that kept my attention and not knowing what to do…I could feel the panic coming. I went into my room, sat on the floor and frantically looked for some music that would hopefully make me feel better. I was shaking, on the verge of a panic attack. I had no idea why…I still don’t know why. I put on one of my most comforting songs and set it to repeat. I grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around me and lay on the ground. I laid there for a while attempting to quiet my mind. I started crying…I don’t know why.

This was just a few minutes ago. I started writing this in hopes that it would help me not fall too far into my panic…so far I think it is helping.

I still feel like running…but I have nothing to run to. All my resources are here. All my family and support are here. I am still shaking writing this…I feel some guilt for wanting to leave. But it is not their fault. It has nothing to do with them. It is just something in my brain. Something I feel at times I can not control.