And this was it. Leaving the Bay Area at last. Because I'd lived there for so long, the LA to SF part of the journey didn't feel like a real trip. Felt more like old times or a vacation. But once I packed everything and was ready to roll it started to hit me--this was for real. I was going to go in one direction for a very long time from here on out.
I have to admit being a little nostalgic and a little sad. And then it hit me why: self-destruction. The entire course of my life up to this point had been traveling in a single direction: achieve financial, occupational, educational, physical and social goals. But this trip represented a hard stop. I was intentionally abandoning the isolated system I'd built around me that guaranteed safety, provided consistency and facilitated the achievement of very specific objectives. The consequence of the kind of exposure I was hurling myself into meant that when I return someone else will be there staring back at me; I was witnessing the death of the guy in the mirror (whom I actually like quite a lot). It was a suicide of sorts.