Avril Lavigne's "I'm with you" Makes So Much Sense Now

My entire life has been about trying to find the escape hatch.

When I was a kid, I would try running away from home, only to return once it was dark. As a teenager, I couldn’t wait to escape to college. When I got to college, I felt the need to escape still and transferred to another school. Then the need to escape followed me from apartment to apartment—none of them treating me well. Slumlords galore.

It did not stop there. With every job, the feeling to escape would be so overwhelming that I would have a major panic attack and quit, then fall into a deep, dark depression for months. Only jobs that paid me close to nothing were jobs I enjoyed, because it wasn’t about the pay for me there.

Escaping led me here to Indiana. Now all I can think about is escaping my life here. I was told if I stayed here I could relax and get well. Unfortunately, it’s been two years, and I’m not relaxed. I am sicker than I was. I do not feel safe. My landlord is probably worse than the ones back in Florida. I feel discrimination constantly. The accessibility of Indianapolis is definitely worse.

I have better medical care and social benefits though. People are nice here, mostly. I just feel like I need to run, but I have no idea where to.

I don’t understand how people just deal with places where they are treated unjustly or poorly in general. People will stay living in one place forever, no matter how badly they are treated. Why?

I guess it’s easier, right? I mean, I’m getting sicker from fighting, and I’m so tired. Nowhere is ever good enough. I am never treated fairly. Why keep fighting it? It’s making me sicker to fight it than to just endure it at this point.

But what you don’t understand is everything deep in my bones wants me to keep fighting—tells me this isn’t fair—tells me I can find better—tells me to call just one more advocacy organization, attorney, whomever.

How do you tell your bones that enough is enough? That it’s time to rest?

Logically, I know this is all crazy. I know I don’t feel safe because I wasn’t really raised in a way to know how. All of my problems are minor compared to so many others.

I’m completely out of control when it comes to trying to find something better. But I can’t stop asking for more. I can’t stop looking for that escape hatch.

Even though I know continuing to look for the escape hatch will make me more stressed and more sick—to the point of being bedbound and unable to do anything with my life ever again—I can’t stop looking. I can’t stop wanting something better. I can’t stop believing there’s something better out there.

And I’ll probably die still looking.