The Escape Artist

I couldn't think of a more appropriate title because I am an artist, and for the longest time—even as I sit here and write this—I wanted to escape; literally escape from everything and from everyone. There were many days where I just wanted to get in my car and drive, drive for hours and end up who knows where. I needed to go and get away from everything. My thoughts were constantly racing and my brain was on overload. I felt trapped inside of my body and felt trapped in my own home. Every time I felt the need to run and escape, the lack of funds prevented me from doing so. I couldn't go anywhere because I knew I'd end up getting stuck and without any means of coming back or going any farther. 

Chrysler Building Pop Art – Artist, me – 2010

As I look back, a part of me looks at it as a blessing in disguise. I always believed that things happen for a reason, and perhaps not having the money on such days was a godsend. I always imagined, sometimes fantasized, where I would have gone if I did have the money to escape. I simply wanted to get in my car and drive, continue to drive for hours and hours. I explained this urge to my therapist and the one thing she recommended was for me to at least have a plan. Don't just drive, but have a plan. A course of action, if you will.

I knew where I wanted to go, and I knew when I wanted to leave. Since it was still winter time, I was concerned about the possible inclement weather I may encounter, but a part of me also didn't care. I just wanted to go away! To escape.

Empire State Building Pop Art – Artist, me – 2010

In my heart, I wanted to head to NYC, or even Chicago. I know that would have been a tough drive, a long tough drive, but I was on a mission and I needed to just go! My state of mind at the time was a concern for both my husband and my therapist—it was at an all time low. They encouraged me to wait, but I didn't want to. I wanted to leave that instant, that moment in time. I couldn't, and I hated it. I felt trapped because I couldn't just leave. I didn't want to be responsible nor did I want to be considerate to my family, I wanted to escape and I wanted to do it immediately. But like everything else in my life, money prevented me from doing so.

Statue of Liberty Pop Art – Artist, me – 2010

I still had no idea where I wanted to go. My mind was telling me to just drive and I'd figure it out along the way. Realistically, I now know that wouldn't have been the smartest course of action for me, but when your mind isn't thinking rationally, you don't really care about that. You just want to go, regardless of where it is. 

I had even contemplated the hope of heading to Italy. I learned several years ago that I had distant relatives that still live in northern Italy. Relatives that my father hasn't seen or spoken to since he was a child, so a huge part of me wanted to inquire about visiting them—if they were even still alive or living there—possibly staying with them as I traveled to this distant land and meet this part of my family whom I have never met before; and most likely never will meet.

Again, money got in the way. I couldn't just pick up and buy a ticket to Italy, so my inquiry quickly ended there. It never went farther than my mind. Just a dream; nothing but a fantasy in my head. 

Leaning Tower of Pisa Pop Art – Artist, me – 2009

I had never been to Italy, and this could have been a dream that I could have easily—or so I thought—obtained and fulfilled. When you are struggling with Bipolar Disorder, unobtainable dreams or desires seem within an easy grasp, but they're not. In reality, they're so far away from actuality that it's difficult to accept, so to be told "No" is something that someone like me, cannot easily undertake. Or worse, want to accept.

Maybe one day I will have the opportunity to travel as far as Italy, maybe meet my Italian relatives and appreciate what my European kinsfolk has to offer. Or something just as easy as getting in the car and driving for 2 days. But one thing I do know is, even now, after all this time and after all my medication, I still get the desire to run—run as far away as I can. My mind quickly shifts me to reality now, so who knows if I'll ever want to take the leap, I don't know. Only time will tell. I love to travel and hope I could see the world! Maybe one day that dream will come true, to give me the opportunity to travel to not just get away, but to appreciate and embrace the world and surroundings on a different mental level. But most importantly, when I'm feeling well and I've kicked this disease in the ass!

For now, all I have is my imagination and my brain that will allow me to do this since I have no other means at this moment in my life. I will however, continue to dream and dream big! My dreams are all I have at the moment that are keeping me from moving forward in my life, and not backwards. 

It's all I can do right now.

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Eat. Travel. Cry.

When the movie, Eat Pray Love, came out, I couldn't wait to see it. I knew none of my friends would see it with me, so I went by myself. Since I love going to the movies by myself, I quickly embraced it. My movie, my time, my terms. It's time to myself.

This movie was different. Anybody that truly knows me knows that I hate love stories and the like. I hate the kind of movies that involve romance and unrealistic expections about what love is supposed to be about. Hollywood's version. But something about this movie intrigued me. I hadn't read the book, so the previews alone are what drew me in. I had heard a great deal about the book and how inspiring it was, especially since it was based off a true story, so I couldn't wait to see it.

For the most part, I knew the basic background of the book and the movie, but still didn't have an idea overall what it was about. 

Once it came out, I immediately went online and purchased my ticket. I was ready to go! Apart of me was scared because I knew once I'd see it, there was the possibility that I may identify with the main character, Elizabeth Gilbert.

I didn't care. Something about this movie piqued my interest.

As I sat alone in the movie theater, after the first 30 minutes or so, I had a revelation—up there on the screen, was me! It seemed everything about that character was me. At that time in my marriage, I was unsure, I was confused. I love my husband dearly, but during that down time in my life, I was completely lost—both in my mind and my heart. After watching the pain that Elizabeth Gilbert had endured must have been beyond agonizing and disconcerting. She knew right then and there, that in order to go forward and be happy with her life, she had to make a rash decision.

To end her marriage and ask for a divorce.

I don't think I necessarily wanted a divorce, but I knew one thing, I needed to be alone. Even though my husband was my rock throughout my ordeal, I still wanted to experience the solitude that she was experiencing.

Per my post, The Escape Artist, I always dreamed about traveling and my envious feeling as I continued to watch the movie only increased my desire to travel, see the magical places that she was able to pursue while she had the advantage of gallivanting throughout these countries.

Except for one problem, I had zero money—unlike the fortunate position she was in, I am nowhere near the magnitude of her writing skills, so that idea was out.

About three years ago, my mother gave me her 3 carat pear shaped diamond ring. It was something she always wanted to pass down to me, and one day I will pass down to my daughter. Once I received it, I knew I needed to have it insured immediately. Since her appraisal was outdated from 1976, I went to my local jeweler whom I have used for years and trusted a great deal for an update. It was appraised at $11,000. Not as much as I thought, but a substancial amount nevertheless.

While I was experiencing these feelings of escape, I thought about selling my mother's ring—the "rock" as I've always called it. But quickly realized this would have impacted me for many years ahead and would have been a colossal mistake.

As I reminisce about that time, I am so glad I didn't give in and sell it. I know now I was at least able to think rationally about that huge step I would have made, and ended up satisfied with my decision not to sell it. I look at my mother's ring everyday and I'm so thankful I didn't succumb to this urge. This ring will someday be passed down to my daughter, and her daughter and so forth. An heirloom that will hopefully remain in my family for decades, if not centuries, ahead.

By the end of the movie, I wanted what she had so badly. Not the love part, but the initial escape, the travel, and of course, the eating. I craved it. It's a reminder of how I was feeling and what I was desiring in my life at that time. It was a tough point, a low in my life and knew something needed to change.

Unfortunately, I was never able to make those changes. Maybe all is well. I don't know. I do know this, as I move forward with my medications, I realize that I am better. I am getting better. Like a diabetic, I know that I will always have to continue with my medication. I never want to experience that horrible time in my life. I can only move forward and learn from it.

Regardless, even today as my crying has diminished completely, I look back and someday dream that we will have the opportunity to travel—even if it's somewhere as simple as Mexico. I'll be happy.

I have to have faith that I will have that lucky chance to do so. The means which will allow to escape, even if I am with my family.

I'm not a religious person, nor have I ever been, but I will pray, pray that I will be in the position to travel and see the world!

Pop Art of Buddha – Artist, me – 2009

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