I'm Going on a Solo Vacation to a Developing Country Because I Am Burned Out

I have a confession to make.

I’ve reached the point. I’m done. Fried. Toast. Put a fork in me.

There are not enough phrases to capture my current mental state. I should be funny, and laughing, and I don’t know… happy? And I am, but I’m not. Does that make sense? I have moments of happiness, but an overwhelming general doneness describes myself at this point. I am burnt like a piece of f#cking toast, and not in the oh shit I forgot to put on sunscreen burnt way! Or wow, I smoked a shit ton of pot today kinda burnt. Nope. I am mentally fried like the egg, over hard.

Everything I come into contact with annoys me some way or some how. I want to get in my car and drive and drive and drive. Does that make sense? I have no real destination, and the reality is I hate driving, and after a 12 hour drive last week I swear I don’t want to drive one more f#cking place.

I want to scream at everyone I see or that does stupid shit. Like a-holes who stop at round-a-bouts! HOLY F#CK JUST GO! But really it’s not that big of a deal. Or my kid who every day complains about something, I just can’t even. It’s groundhog day, in negativity, and my ability to spin it into a pot of gold every time is failing miserably, and has for years. The lowest point is that I got upset with my daughter about Punch Bug. Seriously, the stupid f#cking game Punch Bug – you know when you’re driving and get punched for a VW Beetle (BTW there’s like a bazillion of those on the road). Yeah that game.

This is where I am at.

EVERYTHING is making me sad or mad. There are no other emotions. No other options. No in between.

So know what I am doing?

I am actually going to my doctor. I had no intention of going but when I went to refill my prescription for the medicine that keeps me from losing my shit/mind the pharmacy said, “oops sorry no refills!”

I was all, “WTF!”

So I called my doctor and said, “seriously, I need my pills.”

Then they looked in the computer and were all, “yeah, well you haven’t been in for a check in a really really long time. So you gotta come in.”

I assured the girl, “Pfft! I’m there ALL THE TIME WITH MY KIDS!” Nope they weren’t having it. So I had to make a damn appointment. And you know what, I need it. I need the appointment. Sure I was pissed at the time, but the reality is I NEED this appointment. So thank you doctor’s office for making me come in because I probably wouldn’t have, and would have continued on my decent into hell.

It’s not just meds though. I’m doing something else. I am going on a trip – alone. By MYSELF for ten days.

Not one f#cking meal is going to be cut up. Not one person is gonna roll their eyes at me. I am going to eat what I want, I am going to sleep in if I want, I am going to sit on the balcony of my $45/night studio apartment in a developing country and have a beer if I want. I am hiking eight miles, with a guide, to visit an Unesco World Heritage site. I am going to the Emerald Pool. These are things I want to do and no one else does, or can when it is conducive to my schedule (or the plane schedule when it’s cheapest). So I am doing it regardless. I am strong enough in myself that I am taking a ten-day trip to another country alone.

A year ago I probably wouldn’t have.

I was inspired by a woman on a recent scuba diving trip with my son. She traveled solo from New York City to multiple islands in the Caribbean. When we spoke she said she wanted to do this itinerary and no one else did, or could, so she went ahead and did it. I swear my mind exploded. The IDEA that she just did it! With no one else! I thought F#CK YES I am going to do this. I AM going to go where I want to go and do what I want to do.

So I am.

I have 16 days until I go and I swear to god I am not sure I can actually make it for the next 16 days mentally, but if I do I am getting on that plane with my head held high, a box of milk duds in my hand (that I am not sharing with one soul) and I am giving the proverbial finger to my reality for 10 fanf#ckingtastic days. Alone.

With my thoughts.

So yeah… there’s where I’m at. I think I’ve hit bottom and I pray I resurface with energy and perspective.

Thank you for being there for me, listening to my funnies and my crazies.

Originally from NJ, Alyson now lives in the Midwest but has kept her sarcastic cynical Jersey attitude. She is the mother of two kids who provide constant fodder for her blog, The Shitastrophy. She is the editor of a new anthology, Surviving Mental Illness Through Humor. Her husband lives in fear that every thing he does or says will be highlighted in her next post, Facebook update, or Tweet.