It's Not You, It's Me...

I didn't plan on dropping off the face of the planet.

When I say that the decision was made within the course of a few minutes, I'm really not kidding.

And perhaps that decision left you confused, or angry or hurt or...who knows. Maybe you're here looking for an answer or hoping that I'll give you some kind of clue to justify whatever it is you're feeling or thinking right now. Or, maybe you just need something to talk about. 

I don't have any real answers. I can say that I'm not angry. I'm not hurt. Nobody did anything to offend me. My marriage is not in trouble. I'm not sick or dying (this could be good or bad news, depending on who you are and how you know me). My family is fine. 

You don't have to believe it. 

Over the last week, I've gotten a lot of "why's." There has been a lot of negativity. But there has also been some unexpected encouragement and support (some of them may have just been glad that I was finally shutting up). Which is incredibly nice, because once you unplug, it certainly gets very quiet.

Maybe my decisions defy your logic. You don't understand it. You felt my goal to eliminate things that make me unhappy was "too broad" or not "defined" enough. That's okay. 

But, maybe you'll understand me when I say that I couldn't handle the negativity anymore. That the constant stream of information was too much for my anxiety. You might get it when I say that I was tired of staring at my phone and missing pieces of conversations with my family or typing out a frowning emoticon instead of hugging my friend and saying, "I am so sorry you're going through this." 

You might know what I mean when I say that the burden of knowing that I was hurting people with my words because it was easier when I didn't have to look them in the eye was too much. That I felt like the anonymity gave me a license to be bold or ugly when what I should have been doing was exhibiting compassion, kindness and restraint.

Maybe you'll understand why I left when I say that I should have been visiting my ailing grandparents instead of gossiping and being snarky and reading news articles that only served to stir up anger and frustration at people I didn't even know. Or that my children developed habits that were appalling to me when I finally stopped reacting to every notification. That my husband and I barely communicated because we spent our evenings on separate ends of the house, wrapped up in things that would have led to the final breakdown of our marriage at some point down the road.

You might think it was about you. But maybe now you understand when I say that it was about me.

Changing wasn't just some kind of lofty goal or slogan. It wasn't a pretty pin that I stuck up there in the hopes that one day I might actually achieve it. Happiness and contentment were not meant to be some sort of far off place that I might reach one day if I felt like it. I knew that if I really wanted things to be different, it was going to mean doing some really difficult things. It meant that I was going to have to find a purpose. And I certainly wasn't going to discover it by sitting behind a monitor while the world outside passed me by.