takeover, the breaks over.

I thought that a weekend to myself would help me decompress and clear my mind, and it did. A little bit. No responsibilities, no commitments, no effort, no desire to do anything but lay on my couch and exist for a little while. Do exactly what I want to do. Not answer to anyone. Not deal with anyone or their problems. Or mine, I guess. Just merely, exist.

My car sat in the same spot for two days.

I turned my phone off. I didn't put on a stitch of makeup. Didn't take off my glasses, and didn't change out of some form of pajamas. I marathoned Law and Order: SVU, and made myself pancakes. Did laundry, listened to music as loud as I wanted, danced in the kitchen as I loaded the dishwasher.

Slowly but surely, I began to feel human again. Like me, again. Something that I'm afraid I've been losing touch with, especially within the last week. I've been feeling overloaded with everything, and it's like there's a short-circuit in my brain somewhere and my capability of dealing with anything has plummeted to absolutely nothing. Every waking moment was a struggle to keep the tears at bay, the sobs held back in my chest. It was a chore to get up, to put one foot in front of the other and to keep my eyes open through the day. For what reason? I haven't a clue. It just needed to go away, that's the one thing I could say with certainty.

So, I ran.

Whether it was the side-effects of not leaving my house for 48 hours or too much sleeping or just not being quite ready to start another week and have it turn out like the last, I'm not sure. But I've never really been one to just get up and go for a run so when 11pm rolled around, and there was no inkling of sleep in my near future (and my gym not opening for another couple hours), I pulled on a sweatshirt and shoes and just left.

Okay, in hindsight, this = not a great idea. I know. It's late, I have no form of identification on me, no one knew where I was and my neighborhood isn't really high up there on my list of "safest places in town" right now and my current track record of almost being raped / abducted isn't the greatest.

But I just needed to hear it. Everything that wasn't in my head.

The rustling of wind, cars driving by, the faint sounds of people staying up late and watching television. The panting of my breath and my lungs were fighting to expand and contract coupled with the slamming of my heart against my ribcage to try and keep up and give me what I needed to continue. The slap-pound-slap of my shoes on pavement was oddly the most calming sound I've heard in a long time, and by focusing on that, I felt better. So when I wanted to quit, when my mind started to wander to anything else, I'd focus on that to bring me back to the present. And it worked.

Getting up this morning wasn't as difficult as it has been. My eyes wern't as heavy (despite the 2am eventual bedtime) and breathing, just breathing, felt easier. Maybe it was the weekend, maybe the run, I don't know. But I already have a better feeling about this week. Bring it on.