I'm an escape artist. And not to brag or anything, but I'm a good one. It took me awhile to realize what I was doing was actually escaping, because I wasn't doing anything that would be considered harmful.
I escaped by watching movies and reading books.
It began after the initial diagnosis of my mom, when I was exhausted of crying. I turned on a movie and got lost in it. There's a romance in getting lost in someone else's story for awhile.
But then I began to get addicted to it. I knew I could run away for two or more hours, that I could hide from the pain that I felt. And even after my mom started to get better, I still hid. I hid from feeling unenough, hid from feeling without purpose, hid from feeling sad. I turned on a movie, or opened a novel and I ran away.
I'll try and stop running away now.
I'll try and confront when I feel sad or lonely or inadequate.
I'll try and fight for myself, like my friend Sarah tells me.
I'll try and love myself even when I don't think I'm worth loving.
I'll try and believe that Jesus thinks I'm valuable and important.
I'll try and stop running away.
I hope maybe you will too.
This is day twenty-one. You can find the rest of this series right here.
If you like this post, consider getting the rest of this series dropped right into your inbox. You can sign up here. And don't worry, I'll never give your email out to anyone. Ever. [madmimi id=2]