Running Away

I ran away from my first marriage. It was easy. After finding out he had been unfaithful, I packed my things and left. My friends congratulated me on being so brave. I told myself I was courageous and deserved better, which was true, but I knew the darker side to that truth. I didn’t try to work things out because it would have been too hard.

Running away was easier than trying to fix things. So that's what I did. And I did it again. And again. Until it became an addiction.

I became addicted to running away shortly after moving out of my parents' house. It’s different when your parents are making you try your best at things. Once I was on my own, if life got hard, I took the easy way out and ran away.

When college got too difficult, I ran away and got a job. When that job became too difficult, I ran away, sometimes to a new city, and got a different job. I had my excuses each time.

I didn’t have to try, I didn’t have to stick around long enough to fail. I didn’t want anyone to see me fail. I didn’t have to deal with hard feelings, discomfort, or other struggles. I didn’t have to let anyone in and let them know the real me. I was afraid of what they might find.

I ghosted. I fled. I told myself it was about the new and exciting adventures or that it was about freedom and independence. Except it wasn’t. It was a defense mechanism for not wanting to get hurt. I did it to protect my fragile ego and self-esteem.

I run away from all my problems. There’s just one catch - the problem is me.

The need to run away is instinctual. When your flight-flight-or-freeze mode is activated, you have three choices: run away, fight for your life, or stay rooted to the spot.

The trouble is, I wasn’t facing down a prehistoric animal with teeth and claws, I was dealing with uncomfortable feelings. I didn’t have an effective way to work through stress and discomfort, and once everything got to be too much, I did what any scared animal would do.

I ran.

The mentality of “just run away” bleeds into all aspects of my life: difficulty concentrating, inability to foster meaningful relationships, pushing people away, not having a creative outlet because it’s too hard or takes too much time, wasting my precious time mindlessly scrolling through social media, eating to numb discomfort and boredom.

It all stems from not wanting to feel uncomfortable emotions.

Eating, distraction, procrastination, are all just different forms of running away. I'm trying to escape feelings I don’t want to feel.

Recently I read a book called The Year of Less by Cait Flanders. The author tells the story of how she became a more mindful consumer and, in doing so, saved thirty percent of her income during a year-long shopping ban.

While this is a feat, in and of itself, it’s not just a financial breakthrough. The book is also the story of her chiseling out the life she wanted by working through her feelings. She started with her triggers, looking carefully at why she suddenly had the urge to shop and working through what actually caused the feeling and then choosing to push past it.

This is how she previously got herself out of debt, quit alcohol, and stopped using recreational drugs. She was honest with herself about how it all made her feel.

Sitting on the cusp of a new year, I’ve found myself in a familiar situation. I’m starting a new job soon and I have some debt to pay down. Both of these require grit and fortitude that I have yet to cultivate. The problems I currently have, overspending, poor eating and exercise habits, and a lack of purpose, were created from my addiction to running away.

The difference this year is that I’ll be treating the root cause not just the symptoms.

Running away can feel good in the moment, but as with eating and procrastination, it eventually catches up with you. This year I resolve to work through my triggers and my feelings and push past them through mindfulness.

Being mindful is a superpower. It’s about nonreactivity. No one says I have to act on every thought or emotion I have. Mindfulness is sitting quietly with my thoughts and listening to what they say, then asking myself “Are they helpful? Are they true? Are they kind?” If not, let them go.

The truth is I know I’m capable of much more than I’ve accomplished so far. I also know mindfulness can connect me to the life I want to live and the person I want to be. I resolve to bring mindfulness into my life and break the addiction of running away.