So The Ginger's a Flight Risk

     Adventure. My favorite word is adventure. I've always had this idea that when you call something an adventure, it makes it sound more exciting. And I am more apt to go into it willingly and with an open mind if it sounds exciting. It doesn't matter what it is. Walmart? No no, it's a Shopping Adventure. Therapy/Treatment-Recovery Adventure. Work-Employment Adventure. In all honesty, I probably use word incorrectly sometimes and bother people with the excessive amount of which I say it. I am always down for an adventure. Most often in the form of road trips.
     Road trips are the best medication. Pack a little bag, gas up the car and drive wherever my little heart desires. It has the perfect ratio of soul music, personal space, beautiful scenery, and thinking time. Interstate highways, dirt paths, county roads, or city streets, it never really matters as long as I'm moving. I love road trips so much in fact, that I keep a tote bucket in my car trunk labeled "Emergency Road Trip Kit". It contains things like water and snacks, a blanket and pillow, notebook, a change of clothes, and a bit of extra cash.
     When I am having a rough time, be it a day or even a few weeks, I usually end up taking what I like to call a "spontaneous" road trip. I use the word spontaneous because it sounds a lot better than "compulsive", which is the more accurate term. For example, a number of weeks ago I had off work on a Friday and needed to run some errands. On my way to the pharmacy the highway caught my eye and I just decided to hop on and see where I ended up. My original intent was just to drive to one of the bigger towns about half an hour away, check out a couple things there and hit up their pharmacy before returning home. But a road sign for Nebraska caught my eye, and other plans were quickly abandoned. I spent about 6 hours driving (round trip) and maybe 3 or 4 hours checking out the city. I was back before midnight and into work the next morning.
     That is not an uncommon occurrence for me. It happens every 3-4 weeks on average (although depending on my stress levels, it can and has occurred up to twice in one week). That trip was the first time I had really made it known to a lot of people. A handful of my good friends know I'm a tad flighty and like to up and run every once in a while, but I ended up posting about that one on social media. People seemed to get a kick out of the idea that I'd just up a leave at the drop of a hat.
Except for a few. There were a handful who were, understandably, not as amused.
     You see, a little over a year ago, I was still living with my family about 12 hours northeast of where I am now. And I hated it. It was not a good environment for me AT ALL. I needed out. Something better, a new start. So without really telling anyone, I bought a one way train ticket (yes, a train) stuffed a few things in my polka-dot backpack and stepped on the train at 4:30 the next morning for a 48 hour ride I will never forget.
     Let me tell you now that I do not in any way regret what I did. I needed out, so I got out. The train ride was such an incredible adventure and I even made a few friends. If I had to choose if I'd do it again, I still would. That being said, I could have made a few tweaks in the situation as a whole.              Beginning with the fact that I told no one. I got up that morning and put on my work uniform as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Ate breakfast; a bowl of Grape-Nuts with honey, in case you were curious. Peeked my head into each of my 5 siblings rooms and whispered that I loved them and please don't be mad at me. Kissed my 18 month old baby brother on the forehead while he slept in his crib. Grabbed my bag that I had filled the night before, threw it in the car and drove 15 minutes to the closest train platform. Parked the car, left the back left door unlocked and put the keys in the glove compartment. Got on the train and left. I never told anyone. I did not leave a note. I was careful not to leave any easily traceable evidence that my family could find.
     It wasn't until about 11 that morning when the next girl on shift was supposed to be in. She got there and noticed that I wasn't in and calls were made. My family thought I had gone into work and work thought I was home. I was neither. They were upset and they panicked, and they had every reason too. I am still not 100% sure what exactly went down from there (I obviously wasn't there to see, and it's still a touchy subject in the family), but I do know that the police were involved, as well as the friend I would be staying with (unbeknownst to me), and my grandfather (a saint, if I'm being honest).
     It was a compulsive decision that would change so much of my life. Mostly for the better, but there are definitely still some hurdles associated with the choices I made. Some dust that still has yet to settle.
     I still get the urge to pack up leave for good (Just yesterday, in fact. Well, today too, I guess). Not just on a mini road trip, but to leave for good and start somewhere new. I'm not particularly fond of sticking around. Fortunately, I have some great friends who talk me out of stupid decisions and encourage me to think rationally before taking any "spontaneous" adventures.
     The idea of leaving is never off the table in my mind. I think I'll always be a bit of a flight risk. But how about we just call it an "Adventure Seeker" for now?
     It sounds better.