escape

Stepping into the darkness

I sit here on the couch. Looking straight ahead into almost total darkness as midnight looms.

Haven’t even turned my TV on today. Or yesterday. Don’t care enough to. Maybe not until the pro football playoffs resume this weekend.

In a couple months, I will (once again) be leaving the city that I call home. This time likely for a good while. Family obligations make that necessary. But there’s no deluding myself: I wouldn’t have survived here yet for the long term regardless.

Add the last year here to the string of failures that I’ve experienced over the last 14.

Where exactly will I go? That’s still to be decided. Though the region will be where I grew up.

What will I do there? Also a mystery. Don’t know what I will do with myself going forward. As usual for recent years, the options will be very limited. I’ll have to figure something out.

But for now, I sit here alone. Taking a break from my new book on the kindle. It’s one of the those save-the-world action dramas that gives a needed escape for people with lives like mine.

Soaking in the final weeks of the preferred solitude in my home base.

Before stepping out into the unknown darkness again.

What hits at the core of the crisis

When I was in my 20s, I didn’t go out on weekends as often as I should have. But there were still enough long, interesting nights at clubs to remember.

None of those memories are too specific. Just the situation in general, and how being out on the floor with your friends can just take your world away. Despite that the fact that I can’t….and I mean CAN NOT dance to anything with a quick beat.

That didn’t matter though. It was all about the energy. The music. The atmosphere. And how all of that came together on those nights to take advantage of those years.

Which is why hearing songs like the one below (one of my very favorite EDM tunes) hits at the core of my current mid-life crisis. “It Feels So Good” hit big about 20 years ago, when I was at the heart of those years in my mid-20s.

But even though that makes it hurt to hear that song (and especially to see the video, where couples that age are getting seduced by both the music and each other at the same time), I will never stop going back to watch it.

Because it’s the closest thing possible to turning back the clock.

Even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Save tonight

Save tonight, and fight the break of dawn.

A big hit song from 1997 about lovers who are about to be separated the following morning. But in my case, those lyrics fit virtually every day. It’s 6:15 AM here at the moment and happening as we speak

Yep, I think a lot about escapes and being away from humanity. And this makes for back-to-back entries about them. There is something so serene and relaxing about late night existence. Businesses are closed and most people are inside asleep (or quietly in the same boat as I am).

You can hear a single car pass by, the click of a stoplight changing, or the distant occasional bark of a dog. Sometimes the sound of an ambulance siren that’s much more ominous than when other noises are competing with it during the day. Look up into the limitless dark, and see the universe that reaches beyond anyone’s imagination and possibilities.

And, just as I mentioned the last time: when you’re depressed, stuck with your life, and not doing nearly enough to solve your issues….you don’t feel obliged to take care of business that can only be addressed during the workday. A brief respite from the gloom and antsyness that comes from often feeling down about yourself in that way.

But when the morning comes, all of the above goes away. And you feel some disappointment that you have to wait for the next sunset for your favorite time of day to come back.

The good thing is that since I’m a warm weather person, whenever I’m living in a seasonal climate, the warmth I cherish is a decent tradeoff for the longer days of that time of year. And vice versa. I would rather have nonstop give/take for the year than six months each of all the best or the worst. That wouldn’t be good for my state of mind.

Still though, regardless of the warmth, it’s not easy fighting every daybreak. And I hope to eventually not feel this way about life’s existence at some point.

The escape of the open road

I am now officially scheduled to get moved out of my apartment at the end of the month. After a visit home for about a week and a half, then it’ll be time to drive across the country and learn more about if I can still move back to my target city (in the current world of Covid getting worse again).

Assuming that the country doesn’t shut down more again before then. But I’m trying to stay optimistic.

I actually prefer the journey more than getting to the destination. Because as I’ve mentioned before here, staying at hotels while you travel alone is my favorite escape from life. Your troubles seem to cease being relevant for a short time, because you feel less obliged about fixing your life (when it’s not possible to do much about them from a distant hotel room).

The little things about getting to my hotel’s town for the night give me the small joys that life often doesn’t:

Seeing what options there are for dinner. Bringing some snacks, a small pint of milk, a 20 oz drink back to the room too. Turning on the TV and finding Jeopardy or a game later on (well, back when we had sports before the last four months eh). Seeing the different local channels that you never have before. Laying there in the dark and soaking it all in.

As it feels like the universe has stopped functioning around you for the next 12 or 18 hours. Just you and your temporary shelter off the beaten path.

It’s all a much-needed relaxing tonic.

Before the difficulties of returning back to the real world.

Escape. The tool often unhealthily used as a comfort zone for those of us who find little joy from living.

It comes in many forms. Maybe a book from one of your trusted authors. Or turning off the lights at night while listening to ambient music.

Possibly a hotel room alone. That’s one of my favorites. When you’re away from home, you seem more figuratively distanced from your troubles too (and feel less obliged to do anything about them.)

Or, of course, finding a chemical high of some sort. That’s never been my style, but only because my mind and body just don’t respond much to drugs. Which is a saving grace, given how addictive my personality can be.

Even staying up really late into the night (when there isn’t much reason to). Because when most everyone else is asleep, you feel an escape from dealing with others.

But regardless of which method of escape you choose, the underlying reason is usually the same: slowing down time. Because if you can stop time, you don’t have to deal with another energy-sapping day of endless disappointment and frustration with how you’re handling life.