HIDING INSIDE MY HEAD

I'm typically a pretty social person. At least in the sense that I don't have trouble talking to people and, quite honestly, enjoy learning about their lives, personalities and thoughts. But lately I've craved solitude. I want to turn my phone off, cancel my e-mail account and take off to the mountains in North Carolina where I can live my new hermit existence.

I don't want to feel obligated to talk to someone after a certain amount of time has elapsed or have a drink with someone just to catch up. I just want to be left alone, rolling thoughts around my skull in peace. I haven't felt like this often, but sometimes. And I can't remember a time from my past where I've wanted to just run away and hide as much as I do right now.

There really isn't a reason I can pinpoint as to why I feel this way. I haven't done anything wrong or had something terrible happen. I don't think I'm scared of anything. I just think I'm tired. Tired of worrying about what I'm going to do next. Tired of people asking me "what's been going on?" Tired of looking in the mirror and critiquing myself. Tired of wondering what people think about me. Tired of justifying my insecurities. Tired of answering the same e-mail surveys from friends. Tired of listening to the same music on my iPod. Tired of thinking about things like this.

I know I won't just run away to some relatively undiscovered land enjoying the sunsets, chirping crickets and clear night sky. I know I won't hide in a cabin in a dense forest reading good literature by the fireside and drinking a local wine. I know I won't climb aboard a Mississippi river houseboat admiring the world's reflection off the water. I know I won't, and that tires me too. But tonight when I fall asleep I'll be pretending I did.