I have discussed a few times now moments in my life that I felt ignored, unwanted, and forgotten. I have discussed how I worked to avoid these feelings, to an extent, and how I truly felt in these moments. However, like most young kids, I had a plan to run away. I had multiple plans. Each plan depended on specific things. See plan 1 was to run away with an old friend of mine. He was my best friend at the time. He had come out as gay to his family, and his dad threatened to kick him out of the house. Some days his dad would, and my friend would spend nights sleeping on the streets. We had this master plan to run away to a small town across the state together. We collected money and had printed off google maps with walking directions. We hid food and supplies under our beds for months. We figured no one would notice if we were gone. Plan 2 involved me running away to my uncle’s house. He had two spare bedrooms, and I had plans to show up one day with all of my things and ask to move in with him. I figured my friends could pick me up and take me to school since some of them had cars and could drive. I planned on making a deal with them about rent and dog sitting for free so that I could have a room. I just never got the nerve to ask. I didn’t want them to think badly of my parents. Plan 3 and 4 do not matter too much at this time; part 2 will discuss this thoroughly. For now, you understand that each plan was thought out and developed fully. These plans are what got me through some days. I would come home crying, wishing I could go back to school to avoid life at home. I would pull out my notebook with details of each plan and would work on perfecting them. One day my family had this brilliant idea of going to family therapy, which will be another post entirely. During our second and last session, I mention these first two plans of running away. My family’s response: “Every kid has a runaway plan.” Words that while may be true and I have heard repeatedly after this moment, by my friends and family, hurt me more than anything. This was my cry for help. This was me opening up to see if they wanted to understand fully. To see if they wanted to dive deeper into my emotions, pain, and reasoning for wanting to run away. But no. To them, this was normative. A part of growing up. So they did not try and understand. Plan 1 and 2 died off pretty quickly. But plans 3 and 4 grew into a monster that one day I could not control. I wonder to this day if they had cared would plan 3 and 4 turned into what they did or would I have gotten help and support. Would plan 3 and 4 have died out like plan 1 and 2 did – or was it inevitable?