Retreat!

You know in the war movies when the men start yelling "retreat! retreat!" because things are bad and they don't want to lose anymore men or resources? That was how I felt most of the time while in Alabama. I can't really explain it other than a massive, bloody battle. No one comes home without being scarred. No one survives wholly in tact.

I don't know if it was the PMS or just the atmosphere in general, but whatever it was, it combined into something really toxic. What should have been a joyous occasion was really just stressed and disappointing and angering and very sad. Very, very sad.

I'm not sure where to begin or how much I can actually rehash. My brain is still foggy and my emotions are jumbled up to the point I feel numb. But I also feel depressed and sad. I want to cry, but I've done such a good job of training myself not to cry, so I can't. I am lost. And the thing is, there is no one to blame for any of this. It is what it is. And we're all.....not the better for it, I'm afraid.

Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way. Maybe I'm the only one who feels wrong after it's all over. I can't be sure and I have no desire to call anyone and chat them up about it. Nor am I sure where exactly my emotions are on everything so there's nothing to say. 

All I can say for sure right now is, what should have been a fabulous little trip was just really fucked up.

P.S. I will post another time about some of the happy parts of the trip, because we had moments that were really good. Just over all, I'm reminded why I left home in the first place.