Where Should I Go?

Sometimes there is just too much life to deal with in this life, and for me, such a time is now.

We decided this year that there wasn’t really a point in making a Thanksgiving dinner in my family, so we’re skipping it, which I think is an obvious indication that we are falling apart. If we have nothing to be thankful for, why do we bother with one another? If blood is thicker than water, and our blood is so thin we don’t even acknowledge it, then what in the world do we have connecting us to humanity?

Recently I found out that before my father died, he told my brother and mother to lean on me, that I was the rock, I was the one they could count on, and I’d keep the family together. For five years I’ve tried to do exactly that without knowing that he planted the seed in the heads of my family to do this to me, and knowing that they did just that, without trying to be responsible on their own, crushes me. I just can’t do it anymore. As I have begun to let go, to rip the tethers that tie me to them, I find that we are just drifting farther apart, knowing one another less and less, caring less and less, knowing ourselves less and less, being a part of something meaningful less and less. Partly this breaks my heart; partly it frees me from a burden I couldn’t handle on my own. And in a weird kind of way, I’m thankful that even if it’s just this year, just this holiday, just this one time, I am free to let go of what I have on this day that we’re supposed to use to show how grateful we are for what we have.

I’ve had insomnia for over a month now, and no over-the-counter or prescription medicine has been able to give me more than 5 hours of sleep a night. Whether it’s the sleep deprivation or the trauma of the relationships in my life, I feel myself withdrawing from the world, not wanting to participate, not wanting to feel anything, not wanting to be a part of anything. The stress of my family, my disintegrating relationship with B.E., the pressure from my friends to make specific changes in my life, the overwhelming despair of recognizing the pain and swelling in my hands and feet as another flare-up of sarcoidosis attacking my body, and the stubborn refusal to take the toxic medication that can make it better, all combine to make my existence a constant battle I tire of fighting. And I need to unplug from the fuel that feeds the flames that envelope me.

But how?

I find myself at a creative loss.

I have some money in my savings account for whatever road trip I choose to take, whenever I choose to take it. I have 19 vacation days left for this year, 10 of which I can carry over, but 9 that I have to take in the next 6 weeks. Clearly the indication would be to get the hell out of here for a while.

But where do I go?

Alone.

I have four days off for Thanksgiving weekend and can drive anywhere the roads take me, but I don’t even know what direction to head in. And on a holiday weekend, travel is going to be a nightmare. But I really have to go somewhere.

So, I ask you all, dear readers, who have read my thoughts and feelings for years, where should I go?

My needs are simple: somewhere I can go alone, somewhere I can go to clear my head, somewhere I can drive to and from, and somewhere that won’t cost a bloody fortune.

Suggestions are not only requested, but needed. Help me find some peace. Where can I find it?