Moving to Dallas wasn’t really a choice for me. I had to relocate to finish my degree in mortuary science. So, in the midst of therapy for depression and hormone adjustments for perimenopause, I decided to move to another state . . . with two cats and a kitten! I really AM a glutton for punishment sometimes.
So far, I’ve been lost half a dozen times, “turned around” at least 20 times, and locked out of my apartment’s electric gate on the only major stormy night the area has had in many weeks. I’d say change is good. I always used to say that. I still believe it to be true, but in small doses. A change here and there keeps life exciting – at least interesting.
Within the last four years, I’ve divorced, moved three times, started and stopped college three times, rescued a pregnant cat (twice), and have been “diagnosed” with Major Depressive Disorder. Duh! Who wouldn’t have depression and anxiety with all of those changes going on? I’m not even covering half of the happenings from the last few years on this page, either.
Here, I find myself in a one-bedroom apartment. 647 square feet, to be exact. I’ve auctioned off many of my belongings (and don’t really miss them) to fit into this small space. But, it’s updated, clean, and will soon feel like “home” (I hope).
At age 47, I’m kind of tired of changes happening in bunches. Don’t get me wrong, not all changes are bad ones. Both of my adult children are pregnant with their first children at the same time. My grandbabies will be only 4 months apart in age. That is a welcome change, but a huge change nonetheless.
Since childhood, I’ve not been a worrier. I’ve been an ignorer/denier. With that, comes forgetting important dates and appointments. So, no obsessing over issues, but neglecting to address them is just as harmful. Hey, if I don’t see it or think about it, it doesn’t exist, correct? Der, what a dumb coping skill I’ve picked up and kept for sooo long. That is one thing that is difficult to change . . . those old coping skills . . . whether they worked or not.
Tomorrow evening, I’m going with an old high school friend and her grown daughter to House of Blues. We can reconnect, laugh, and hopefully, I’ll lose some of the mild depression that has been creeping into my head and chest.
So, onward and upward, right?
Till next time ~