The Day I Stopped Running

Would you believe that I ran away to a whole other country to get away from my monster?

In British terms the next town along from you has different accents, so running a whole country away is like a deep trek into the Himalayas.

There's a lot of people that do this I've noticed. That get up from where they are, and set off for brighter pastures.

Some do it for need, others do it for work or family,

People like me do it because we're afraid.

Monsters are scary.

Of course at the time in my mind I was seeking brighter opportunities, a newer future, and a good position with my dad at his work. What was there not to love here?

But in reality I was high-tailing it away from that horrible monster that lurked, hidden, but whispered to me always.

I wanted a fresh start; my dad had a position going at his company. Great.

I always wanted to be a hardware support engineer. What a way to start!

On the surface there was nothing wrong here, I could absolutely march myself off into blissful ignorance as I sought a new life for myself.

Turns out that it was the best decision I had ever made of course. 26 years later and that decision turned out really well for me; I dread to think where I would be had I not tried to hide from my monster.

But your monster, they always have a way of creeping back up on you. Slowly at first; it's never open, in the air, on show, it's always death by a thousand papercuts.

The new world that I ventured to, it was bright with opportunity and filled with new people to meet and discover; some I even still have as friends today.

There's a strange melancholy about giving up all that you know and trading it in for a world of new wonders and fruit.

The people that I used to know, would break bread with, and often times be drink buddies with -- now a distant memory of a time long gone.

It did bring sadness; sometimes I wept for the old life, but these were the choices I had to live with when I moved.

The monster that lurked has too much power over my decision making and strong bonds I was willing to fracture because of him.

He whispered silently to me in my head, to forget, to get on with life, that this new life I'm headed for is going to be the best.

I can finally get away from HIM.

But of course, I was young, I didn't fully understand life back then and perhaps out of extreme naivety I had no understanding that my monster needed fresh blood to feast on, new experiences to destroy, and relationships to rip apart at the foundation.

For sure my monster was coming with me. I just didn't know it yet.

My monster has always been seductive and destructive. He'd seduce me by singing songs of my greatness knowing that it would inspire my downfall.

It's true you know. I spent most of my early 20's running. It's amazing how far I could run and when I fell how often I landed on my feet -- I seemed to be an athlete at dodging any sort of responsibility in life whatsoever.

But what happens when you can't run anymore?

What happens when you're backed up against the wall and there's no way to go, no door out, no window to climb out of, and, everywhere you run your fear is there to meet you?

This happened to me when I was 26 -- if you read me often then you'll have probably heard me talk about this story in the past; perhaps not this poetically though!

It was the end of the road for me.

I was sitting in a darkened room; no electricity, no heat, no alcohol to get me through this inner turmoil -- just the heavy breathing and slow footsteps of what I had been running for all my life slowly, walking, coming up to meet me face to face for the first time in my life.

I'll save you the ordeal of what I was running from, I've written about it before many times, but this one is about the monster -- you know? The monster that we hide from others by pointing out there's?

Everyone has a monster.

Some run from it, like me.

I don't think I've cried as long and as hard that night at any other point in my life, the raw emotion burning out of the fire of my belly, knowing that I had to face it, had to finally stand tall and meet it face to face.

And yet, after the first encounter, after the horror and the pain and the internal anguish -- the second meeting wasn't as bad.

The second meeting my monster had humanized a little, I could see it taking shape. It was friendlier, not as scary.

Same with the third.

Little by little my monster became friendlier and more human after each meeting; kinder, and more relatable. It was a strange feeling, to watch something you had ran away from for all of your life be humanized and relatable.

This went on for a while.

Until of course, eventually.

I realised the monster was me.

And he wasn't a monster anymore, he was just me talking back to myself -- the usual rough around the edges, a bit clumsy, and a bit foolish, completely naïve -- prone to mistakes..

..me.

Crazy that right?

How we run from ourselves.