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This diary entry is written by Wrought_Iron_Rose. ( View all entries )
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RunningCategory: (general)
Monday, 29 October 2007
06:51:58 PM (GMT)
The following is mostly hypothetical and probably drenched in personal bias since
this is a diary entry. You’re responsible for your actions and the consequences
that result. If you want to send me hate mail or whatever, be my guest… I shall
respond with equal affection. :P 

(Originally writen 3/2/07)
Last night was brutal. After a rather bitter argument with my mother I was a basket
case. We’ve fought before, said hurtful things to each other, even threw some
things but none have ever gotten to this point. I went and hid in my room as she
banged on the door, threatening to kick it in. I had tried to explain to her our
differences, in hope of receiving acceptance and perhaps some reassurance. Instead I
unintentionally struck a nerve. Never have I seen so much hate/disapproval/hurt in
her eyes. I felt like I was no longer her daughter… that maybe this was the point
of no return, the turning point.
I was overcome by a strong urge to get away. So, I did.

Running away is sort of a tabooed thing, at least that’s what I’ve been lead to
believe. Each situation is different. Often though, if you’re a youth, it means
running far from home so there’s less chance of being caught, dropping out of
school if you attend it, leaving friends and family behind if you have any, and
(unless you plan to run with someone else) entering unknown territory alone. 

Anyone in their right mind would probably try to find another way to deal with their
situation and avoid running away at all cost. If you type “running away” into
your search engine or browser all sorts of things will come up; the dangers of
running away, sob stories of people who have run away and the awful things that
happened to them, religious sites offering support to parents, articles trying to
convince you it’s a bad idea, etc. etc. etc. There are two sides to everything.
Someone must have made it out there and lived to tell about it.

Logically, you must weigh the pros and cons and decide for yourself based on your
situation (future, family, emotional/other needs perhaps?), location, and other
variables whether it’s a good idea. Some might be in a more difficult situation at
home than others; abuse, neglect, maybe your parents/guardians want to live through
you. Maybe you really love your family in which case you need to consider your
options. But if they don’t love you and you’re unhappy where you are, it’s not
the end of the world… and you have your whole life before you. Life tastes so much
better when you live it.

In most cases you won’t be found along the highway maimed/mutilated nor will you be
sent home in 15 separate boxes… that is if you use common sense. Parents, social
services, law enforcement all tell you these stories so that you don’t run away.
Hmm… I like to think that’s because then they can’t control you… then again
it is sometimes because they genuinely love you and worry about your welfare.
Ultimately, it’s still your decision. 

That said, last night I stumbled through the woods in the dark, through a swamp,
across a river, over barbed wire, and to the dried out roots of a fallen tree where I
stopped and tried to fathom what I had done, where I was, and what I should do.
I kept thinking, "I should be afraid. I should be terrified. I've never been this far
away from home and I'm afraid of the dark." For some time, I don’t know exactly how
long, I sat there and shook, sobbing so hard my chest ached and my breath became
Then suddenly I stopped. It was so quiet. My ears were ringing from an hour and a
half of screaming. I sat there, in the utter darkness. Rather than fearing all that
was hidden in the night, I became part of it. With a small flashlight, my trench
coat, backpack, and pair of scissors clenched in my hand I felt invincible. It was
the most amazing feeling of freedom I've ever felt. I walked through the woods,
alone, with all of monsters I had once feared lost behind me in the darkness.

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