The Escape Artist

So i have come to a realization that everything i have been bringing into my life has literally been a form of magic. My fish make me "happy"? rather, they give me something else to focus on so that i don't feel as though my life is so sour. Same with movies, TV, books, vacations, and now blogging. I have been searching for some relief for a long time. I am the escape artist, just call me Houdini. I can't seem to just follow my head and listen to common sense. i know if i were to walk away, i would suffer initially, but then plant my own garden and build myself back up in time. But my heart guilts me so deeply, feeling that if i do let go and don't turn back, i would be making a grave mistake. the inner turmoil has spread into every action, reaction, facial expression, muscle ache, and bone in my body. So i escape my shackles while drowning under water with anything that will keep my attention. Even when i am 'having fun' there is a tick inside me that doesn't allow me to completely let go. My head is still heavy with worry, sadness, and fear. Waiting is more torturous than just moving on. The more bones i throw the more bones i want thrown back. I have taken risk after risk to try and come to a resolution, but when things are not reciprocated, i am left empty, alone, angry, confused and upset.