Last night, I watched a couple of installments of a show called "Disappeared" or something like that, on some obscure cable station. These were stories of folks who had simply vanished. No foul play detected, no trace or trail left behind. They were just gone, leaving perplexed family and friends to puzzle about their whereabouts. Forever, presumably.
On the drive home from a slightly disappointing "girls' weekend," wherein I was hoping to have some enjoyable bonding time with my sisters (not so much…), I thought about the stories on that show. And realized how appealing the idea of disappearing really is.
I find myself in a position that is so abhorrent to me that I can barely stand to think about it. I am a gaping pit of neediness. I need a direction. I need a purpose. I need closure of this business enterprise that I have royally fouled up. I need to figure out what my life is going to be all about once that is done with. I need someone to talk to about all of this. I need someone to hear me.
I hate being needy. Like most people, I think, I would so rather be needed. No one needs anything from me right now. Well, that's not strictly true. What they need from me is…to leave them alone. To suck it up and get through this and quit whining. To not burden them with my struggles.
What they need from me…what all the people closest to me would appreciate the most, I often think, is for me to…
Hardly something one can really DO, I suppose. And there is the fact that, if one were to attempt to disappear, one's past, paranoia, and problematic personality would follow one wherever one tried to hide.
Guess that's not really a plan then, is it?