“I’m outta here.”
And that’s what I would do. When I was out with my friends at some party, bar, restaurant… anywhere. When I heard the voice in my head saying I’m outta here, I was out. And I’m not one of the “oh goodbye see you soon,” or, “good seeing you,” blah, blah.
“Just tell us next time you bolt. I worry.” My best friend was serious.
“Don’t worry. I’m sorry. Sometimes I get this I gotta go hitting my mind to the point where I just have to bolt.”
“That’s fine. Just text me so I know you’re okay.”
I never gave much thought into how hard it must be for my closest friends to deal with my issues.
I still bolt, mostly, but give a quick bye.
My friends get it.
Hitchhiker photo available from Shutterstock
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Last reviewed: 20 Aug 2012