I once, out of the clear blue sky, walked away from husband, child, and a decent full-time job, hopped a Greyhound, and went to Omaha, Nebraska. I'd never been there in my life and didn't know anyone there. Why? I couldn't provide a rational explanation, except that I was feeling overwhelmed and needed a change. Not one as extreme as that, of course, but I did need one. At the time I was not diagnosed with any mental illness, nor was I on medication. Later I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, PTSD, and Avoidant Personality.

Other sudden "flights" have included trips to San Diego, Phoenix, Memphis, and Dallas. I now live in the state of Washington, but that was a planned move, not a flight.

I'm from Kentucky too, but even though that state's mental health system has its serious flaws, I don't think it's a matter of just wanting to get out of there. It only so happened that I found what I needed elsewhere. I'm sure others would do just fine there.

This season is my fourth straight Christmas at the house my husband and I are now living in. That's longer at a stretch than I've ever lived anywhere in my life, even as a child. I think I was just plain unstable, and so accustomed to constant upheaval that I didn't know any other way. I don't have the urge to just take off anymore, and I think one thing that helps is the occasional get-away for the weekend, and the fact that we travel on vacation.