I want to run away. Far away. I want to wreck everything I have built. I want to fall, into the abyss that I’ve outrun for so long. I want to break free from the restraints. I want to let the gray overtake me. I want to wallow in the sadness that is floating at the edges of my life.

But I can’t. That’s not what grown ups do. That’s not what I really want. It is just what I feel, a little bit. I am scared. I am taking stock. I am borderline unhappy at the moment. I am plotting my next move. So my instinct? My urge? Run. Wreck. Destroy. Topple all the pieces. Why? Because I can. Because then the slate is not clean but it is a fresh start.

Life runs in cycles. I am currently in my low. No, I am not bi-polar or manic depressive. At least not that I know of. I am missing Uncle John. I’m missing Grams. Aunt Marianne. Papa. I have odd dreams of them, some of them, or all of them. I have dreams of living relatives in odd situations. I have dreams that the ones that have passed on are still alive, even though part of me, even in the dream, knows they are gone. It is so odd and confusing.

There are changes happening. Changes I cannot control.

Unhappiness is important sometimes. It forces us to take a good, long look in the mirror. It is time to get really honest with myself. Come up with a plan. Not a “life plan,” that is too extreme. Maybe a year or two plan. What are my next steps? Where do I want to be?

In the meantime, I will just fantasize about destroying it all…