And in the Vein of Running Away..

I'm going to Bonaire Friday on a spontaneous last minute spoiled rotten vacation. Someone in my parents' dive club had to have emergency surgery, so there were two spaces available for almost nothing, and my parents thought of the one person they knew that was always up for and afforded the flexibility for spur of the moment travel. And they're footing the bill!

I know that part of it is that Dad feels far less guilty about going off and leaving Mom when I am there, and this way they get far more time with me than a rushed weekend visit home. I also think they feel guilty about never coming to New York to visit, and I know they've been worried about me. That's part of the downfall (like there's any upside, really) to being the only surviving child, especially where suicide is concerned....god forbid you're having a sad day, much less emerging from a bit of a rough time; depression is a rather unmentionable panic inciting thing. So I know that this makes them very happy to be able to do, and that I should feel good about that.

Still, I feel like a spoiled rotten brat, or worse yet- a jap - for accepting an offer I'd be crazy to turn down. And I could definitely use some clarity time (which travel always affords), as the tours du psyche with Lady Charon have hit choppy rough waters and I'm a little seasick.

So I'm running away for a little well timed week of solitude to reflect on exactly how to sew up old wounds that have been covered with band-aids for a while.

And for those of you familiar with my insurmountable fear of fish, yes, I will indeed be snorkeling. We'll see if I make it out alive...