drive

In an attempt to touch base with something familiar and mentally regroup, I took the day off from work and made the two hour trip to Hometown.
I spent two hours with Mom and struggled to inform her of my current mental issues. While the words "suicidal thoughts" were never uttered, she clearly grasped the gravity of the situation. She tried to convince me to seek professional help; I told her I would think about it.
I then spent some time with Sister. She's in the waning weeks of her pregnancy and, considering the circumstances, doing well. I don't know if our relationship will ever fully mend.
My body boiling with anxiety I drove to Dad's but he wasn't home -- which was probably a good thing. By that point I was ready to crawl out of my skin, and being around Dad when I'm out of sorts is always a difficult -- and frustrating -- experience. I could have killed some time and waited for his arrival but I had had enough. Sorry, Dad.
I don't like visiting Hometown. Wonderful memories were made there, and I love Mom, Dad, Sister and Step-dad, but frequenting that city fills me with anxiety and sadness.
Living two hours away is a manageable and safe distance. I can keep the demons from the past at bay and I'm able to remove myself from the drama, the conflict, the heartache.
This "thing" is whittling me down to a mess of exposed nerves and whitewashed emotions. I feel like I'm screaming for help yet no one is paying attention. Or maybe they're just disinterested. Or maybe people are knocking but I refuse to answer the door. Or maybe I'm so cliche and full of shit that this is what people expect. All the lines have been rehearsed, the stage directions choreographed, and I'm just a cardboard cutout of an actor, shuffling along with a script of dust and bullshit in my hand.
"And tonight, playing the role of 'The Selfish Self-loathing Asshole'..."

mc