The Craziest Thing


Recently, I had a friend from my past contact me and it brought on a lot of emotions. 

They weren’t even negative ones, but it made me deal with something that I have truthfully been dreading for over a year. 


More than a year ago, I did something crazy.  Well, I’ve done a lot of crazy things, but most of them have been with Boris as a team. 

However, I did one really crazy thing that was on my own.  Mid conversation with some people, while at work in my Savannah office, I drastically changed my phone number. 

I didn’t alert anyone or send them a message to give them a heads up. 

Nope.  I just went dark. 


To be honest, yeah it sounds harsh, but the intention behind it was so far from that.  

During my entire life, I have always been a “yes” girl.  I never wanted to admit this about myself, because I felt I was strong, and said what was on my mind, but… I wasn’t. 

I would always say that anyone could convince me to do (almost) anything if they asked me long enough. 

So, several requests later, and I’d be dropping my law exam study materials and heading to Atlantic City at 12am.  Only after I stuffed my face with pizza and ice cream (aka my study buddies) of course.  Whether it was that or something simpler like going to dinners, events, etc., no matter the occasion, I would be there. 

I was more available than your highest respected hotline.  If I didn’t reply to a message or call within 30 seconds, I’d already have reoccurring “are you still alive?!” texts popping up on my screen.  It got to a point where if I didn’t say yes or didn’t answer at any given moment, I felt as if I was letting the entire world down. 

Of course, all of this was created solely by one person: me. 


I was the only one to blame for others’ expectations of me.  I set the bar so damn high because I never wanted to disappoint anyone.  But, even my best self on my best day couldn’t compete with those standards anymore. 

I was going through my own stuff: moving, new job, new world, new questions of “what the hell do I want to do the rest of my life?”.  That along with the inescapable family expectations and I was probably only seconds away from cracking. 

So, I did the only thing I could think of doing.  I changed my number. 

I definitely struggled with the decision at first.  How could I be cutting off these people?  They didn’t deserve such harsh behavior.  After all, they didn’t do anything.

It was just me.  Something I needed to do. 


Then I thought about what my mom always told me.

She would tell me about how in a plane, when there’s an emergency, they always tell the mothers/fathers/etc. to put the oxygen mask on themselves first before they even attempt to help their children.  Why? 

Are there children any less valuable?  Do they have more oxygen in their little lungs and therefore can last longer? 

No.  It’s because unless the parent takes care of themselves first, they are of no use to their children. 

My mom always instilled in me the necessity of making myself a priority.  

It only took me 29 years to get it.  


I was no good to anyone anymore.  I was a shell. 

I was questioning my decisions on the inside and battling with my actions on the outside.  There was no connection or control between the two.  And, I was lost.  

I needed to disconnect and reset.  I needed to take the time to figure out who I was.  I wanted to understand who I wanted to be and who I could realistically handle being. 

It became normal to spread myself so thin that there were rarely leftovers for me.  The irresponsibility and inability to allow myself to make decisions born outside of fear led to a spiraling of poor choices and poor habits. 

And the only possible way to salvage what was left was to unplug and reboot for awhile. 


To be continued…


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