I had a pretty unique childhood. I was a homeschooled missionary kid whose biggest concerns were mosquito bites and evangelism. Until I was 11 and my life turned upside down. Suddenly I was a depressed kid from a broken home. The police came to my house on a weekly basis. I lived with my abuser and couldn’t do a thing about it. I began going to public school and was desperately trying to hide my situation.
So I developed coping mechanisms. I turned anger in toward myself and helped others as a way outside of myself. I began unhealthy relationships with food and self-harm.
And I also had my getaway bag.
The getaway bag was my only tangible coping mechanism. It was ready at all times with emergency cash, a change of clothes, a bible, and toiletry essentials. I only actually used the bag to getaway a couple times, but I would often use it to calm myself.
I would sit in my closet holding the bag, reminding myself that I had a way out. Life wasn’t hopeless quite yet. It reminded me that there was still time to start again.
I carried this habit with me when I moved to Cambodia. Of course I was safe there, but what if one day I wasn’t? I told myself that the political situation could change at any point. I believed I had to be ready to flee at all times. Not because anyone in Cambodia told me this, but because it was the way I lived for so long. I brought my coping mechanisms across the world with me.
Now I’m back in America, attempting to heal these old wounds. I intentionally haven’t packed a getaway bag this time. I’ve noticed myself missing it though. When I get overwhelmed with anxiety, I start thinking about packing the bag just to feel a bit more safe.
But the reality is that I’m not unsafe anymore. I’m not 11 years old. I’m not being abused.
I am growing and I am healing.
I am letting go of unhealthy coping mechanisms.
I am getting ready for the wild, beautiful journey ahead of me.
When the time comes to go I’ll be ready and I’ll be traveling light this time. Because this journey is far too great to let extra baggage weigh me down.
So I developed coping mechanisms. I turned anger in toward myself and helped others as a way outside of myself. I began unhealthy relationships with food and self-harm.
And I also had my getaway bag.
The getaway bag was my only tangible coping mechanism. It was ready at all times with emergency cash, a change of clothes, a bible, and toiletry essentials. I only actually used the bag to getaway a couple times, but I would often use it to calm myself.
I would sit in my closet holding the bag, reminding myself that I had a way out. Life wasn’t hopeless quite yet. It reminded me that there was still time to start again.
I carried this habit with me when I moved to Cambodia. Of course I was safe there, but what if one day I wasn’t? I told myself that the political situation could change at any point. I believed I had to be ready to flee at all times. Not because anyone in Cambodia told me this, but because it was the way I lived for so long. I brought my coping mechanisms across the world with me.
Now I’m back in America, attempting to heal these old wounds. I intentionally haven’t packed a getaway bag this time. I’ve noticed myself missing it though. When I get overwhelmed with anxiety, I start thinking about packing the bag just to feel a bit more safe.
But the reality is that I’m not unsafe anymore. I’m not 11 years old. I’m not being abused.
I am growing and I am healing.
I am letting go of unhealthy coping mechanisms.
I am getting ready for the wild, beautiful journey ahead of me.
When the time comes to go I’ll be ready and I’ll be traveling light this time. Because this journey is far too great to let extra baggage weigh me down.
