I moved. I moved almost two months ago. I moved house. I moved town. I moved country. I moved continent.
With me moved a husband and two gorgeous felines, none of them having moved this far, if at all, prior to this.
Oh, and we were busy doing small reno on our former home as we will be renting it. fun times.
I’ve mentioned in a previous post how I rarely stress out or worry in my daily life. I’m a bag of anxiety now. This process has affected me to my core. So much more than i wanted to acknowledge but here it is…panic attacks almost daily for the first couple of weeks after the move. I’m a wreck, still, but not everyday.
Moves are always tough. That’s change for ya. I feel like the move home is the toughest of all. Not only are you starting over…you’re having to start over in a familiar place with familiar people…a familiar life but however many years later. So you end up feeling lost. Trying to navigate yourself through this familiar world that has forgotten you.
Everyone has moved on cause that’s what people do after you leave. How do you reintroduce yourself into someone’s life? Especially with grown up children who were young when you left and adults upon your return….they’ve definitely got more priorities than me and its a hard reality for me to be confronted with. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve she’d a few tears over it. Then I recognize I’m the older one who needs to cop on and keep trying. Keep texting. Keep dming. Keep msging. Whatever it takes. I can’t give up. They’re stuck with me.
A stranger at home.
