Far from home
Tell us about the farthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
Hmm. Geographically, I think we are talking about Germany. Beautiful country. Clean, vibrant economy (when I was there). I was there as a kid and a teen with my family on vacation, so I had no responsibilities. I remember being able to comfortably walk in a large city like Frankfort. I remember being happy and at home with my family in a such a faraway place. The farthest I have really been from home is not about simple miles on a map. The farthest away from home was when I nearly lost my mind. It was high school, a time and place so special that it is touted as “its a lot better than middle school”. So many, many things are a lot better than middle school. My brain had always been a trusted friend. It helped me stand out. Being “smart” was a huge part of my identity. Then, my brain turned on me. It stopped being my friend. It attacked itself using biological warfare. Very un-Geneva Convention. One day, I got depressed. Literally, one day. I remember when it started. I was sitting in theatre class with my friend K, in the theatre seats facing the stage (almost 20 years ago). I had the overwhelming thought that I had been sheltered my whole life, and I was missing out on the grand high of existence and was woefully unequipped to engage. The bottom fell out. It was like that moment in Fight Club when you find out Edward Norton and Brand Pitt are … you know. Except it wasn’t followed by me saying “I thought this was the most messed up movie ever. This is the best movie ever!” It was followed by years of becoming part of situations I never even wanted to touch. It started out bad, but it got worse. Unfortunately, the totality of that is for another day. Thank you for reading thus far.