This November has had to be the worst this year. Earlier this month, I learned that my mother had passed away. That hit me hard and I am still feeling the residual effects. I will always miss her. A few days after that, an old friend who resided in San Francisco - who I had known since college and suffers from the same insidious mental derangement that I do - fell to his demons and committed suicide. And finally, through no fault of my own, I had terminated that relationship I had.
It has been a red-letter month to say the least. I have dealt with it the best way I could. But, as if I am standing in the surf, with the waves of depression have been coming on stronger and higher. I have been battling the urge - a strong urge - to simply pack my shit and hit the road. It really would be liberating at this point and no big loss on my current apartment. When I had that wild hair up my ass on going to teach English in Southeast Asia, I had sold half my furniture in lieu of leaving. I could easily rid myself of the rest.
Where would I go? Anywhere but here is preferable. Anywhere but here.