Skip to main content


the local library

I just moved from an ugly city to a pretty city and I'm scared.  I upheaved my whole life, got what I wanted, and now am having to deal with all that entails.  Some of you may have read my blog posts rambling on about whether I should move to Massachusetts or not, so you might be interested to know that I decided to stay in Silicon Valley.  I thought it would be the easier of the two moves to make but now I am not so sure.

I had been all gung-ho to move to Massachusetts, the land I loved, and had made all kinds of vision boards, colorful affirmations, and inspiring pictures that I put everywhere to ensure it happened.  I was certain it was meant to be.  But the expenses of such a huge move were adding up and there just weren't any decent apartments for rent in the area I wanted to be in.  I had been looking for a couple months when I started getting really sad to leave my family, friends, and support groups here in California.  It felt like I was trying to force a square peg into a round hole.  Many people were consulted, even you guys, but the thing that made me finally decide to stay in the area was that a super cool woman, just an acquaintance really, told me she was going to have a room to rent in her place and it was going to be (relatively) cheap. It totally seemed like fate, like The Universe was stepping in and making the decision for me.   I would never be able to afford to rent on my own in Silicon Valley but if I shared a place I could stay.

Now the only real drawback is that her room won't be available until mid June so I am staying in an Airbnb until it opens up.  I'm in the charming city I grew up in, my family and friends are right here, but I don't feel at home like I thought I would.  I feel unsettled, uncomfortable, and very very transient.  I guess it's no wonder - I am literally living out of suitcases.  And I just want to sleep.

I am feeling out of sorts and you know how precarious my mental health is to begin with.  Because there is also the whole loss thing; it's possible I might be missing having someone to take care of, even though I know I am better off without my ex.  I packed and moved myself, then being the good codependent that I am, I packed and moved him.  I'm still exhausted from it all and there is a hole in my life where he used to be.   But surprise, surprise now that he is on his own it turns out he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.  Who would have guessed?!?  I must recalibrate my perceptions and my expectations, because I swore I would never ever be a caretaker in a relationship again, and this just proves I don't even need to be.

It's strange; everything right now is familiar and yet new.  I have my family which is great and of course not new.  I have my dear old friends but also a new friend - the woman who runs the Airbnb where I am staying - which is an unexpected delight.  I am starting from scratch building a new clientele for my dog-walking business in my hometown but in unfamiliar neighborhoods.  My old dog-walking clients loved me but now I am having to self-promote which is something I am horrible at because I barely even allow myself to take up space in the world.  Will the new clients love me equally?  How will I know if they are a good fit?

My childhood home has been raised to the ground and the new owners are building a modern monstrosity that looks like an office park in its place.  All the restaurants, 12 step meetings, and shops (the mall!) are pretty familiar but after I am done visiting them I don't really have a home to come back to.  I am untethered.  It is a transition for sure, but it feels like a transition that will never end.  Maybe I'm just being impatient, so for now I have taken to hanging out in my comfort zone - the public library which, despite last year's remodel, is thankfully not all that different than from when I was growing up.

Have I mentioned I just want to sleep.....


Popular posts from this blog

homage to an ex

I am a sucker for a good romantic story and I have started many a questionable relationship just because the storyline was hot.  The most solid example of this is the case of my first husband, the only difference is that he wasn't questionable.  He was pretty great.

In 1989 I was a wild child, free-spirited, rockabilly art student, living in San Francisco with a couple of more conservative "normal"  young women.  One of the women had a friend from college who was an officer in the Marine Corps and we were all invited down to Twenty Nine Palms to visit him and his friend on base.  I thought it would be kitsch to go; it appealed to my sense of the ironic.  Little did I know I would fall in love.  With the desert.  A searing 104 degrees melted all my tensions and aggressions and the two Marines turned out to be super cool.  We shared a similar love of Elvis,  classic old movies starring Humphrey Bogart, and cheap whiskey.  They both had romantic sensibilities which may be …

a dark place

I’ve been watching a lot of dark movies and tv shows lately only they don't feel dark to me. They feel matter-of-fact, like "Yeah, that's how life is".  Does that mean I am depressed?  My friend K and her husband are hooked on serial killer true crime tv shows and K is normal.  Does that mean I am normal?  Usually I avoid anything remotely dark but nowadays it seems to suit me.  And at this time of year there is usually a season of Dancing With The Stars to perk me up (see post What Gets Me Through) but they are forgoing the early spring season in order to revamp the show, so I am left high and dry and watching Inside Look:  The Assassination of Gianni Versace, American Crime Story.

Ever since I was a little girl I've been afraid of the dark - literally.  I was always scared there was something evil and dangerous lurking and even to this day I am wary.  When I was a teenager my parents always warned me about going out after dark as if being out and about at nigh…

hole in the soul

You can often hear people in AA talk about the hole in their soul.  They theorize that they’ve always had the hole and that their drinking was an attempt to fill it (as Lady Gaga sings “Aren’t you tired of trying to fill that void?”).  This explanation rings true to me.   At times I can actually feel my hole; it’s like an ache and a longing and an emptiness.  But in AA we look to healthier ways of filling it than drinking.  We have the fellowship of other like-minded people, we can pray and meditate, and we have our higher power.  Also we can be of service.  I think all of that helps but my void never goes away.  It’s only temporarily filled so I constantly have to work at it.  It’s a spiritual quest.  Is this just part of being human – do non-alcoholics/addicts have the void too? The other night I had an ah-ha moment that the hole in my soul is grief and loss.  Is that true of other people’s holes or is everyone’s hole different?  I feel that at my core is an infinite space of incur…