Word of the Day

What It Feels Like to Leave My World Behind

I never question my wanderlust. That sudden need when I glance out of the window and see the sunlight and just need to go. To walk and run and drive and move.

This has led to picnics and sudden hikes, and occasional big trips. But more often than not – lately – jobs, laziness, student loans and chronic depression have put my traveling urges in their place.

So it's not very often that I indulge that desire anymore. Maybe what I'm about to say is really the overdue result of suppressing my internal need to wander for too long.

This weekend, I'm moving across the country.

This is not an exaggeration. My tiny family (my husband-to-be and two dogs) is packing up and driving from North Carolina to Portland.

Across the country.

Across. The. Country.

Before you ask: No.

No, I do not have a job waiting for me in Oregon.

I do not have family there.

My husband does not have a job, nor family, there.

There is no emergency or best friend waiting for us there.

And no, we've never been there.

But this week we are eloping, packing up our dogs, selling our shit, and driving across the country because we can.

Because North Carolina is too small, too southern, too religious, too traditional, too boring for us. Because Portland, Oregon is the food capitol of the world and there are few things we enjoy more than endless varieties of fun, delicious, authentic foods. Because I've been out of college for four years and still work at Old-fucking-Navy, and I'm never going to find a real job here, and his job can go anywhere, so why the hell not. Because even with all the hipsters, neck beards, and plaid, Portland feels like it could be us. Because manifest destiny. Because we don't have kids or commitments or anything to force us to stay here, so why stay? Because why not go on a crazy cross-country trip with two dogs in a tiny marshmallow car and start over completely fresh and new in a place that looks fantastic? Because life is short and the world is big and there is so much to do!

For the last week, the thought creeps up on me in the middle of the night of all the things we'll be leaving behind. It's a hollow pit opening up in my stomach to snap at me from the inside.

We're leaving our family here on the east coast, and 99% of our friends.

We are, in a very real sense, leaving our world behind. We are heading straight towards the unknown like a very hungry, terrified bullet train filled with comic books and puppies and maxed out credit cards.

This could be a huge mistake. Or it could be the best decision of our lives. Or... it could just be a really cool trip. I try to keep my mind on that possibility of complete normalcy. Maybe it will be just like any other move.

But what's pulling me back is the fear.

The long drive, the unpredictable weather, the strangers, the mountains, slippery roads, crazy drivers, medical emergencies. I'm a paranoid person. A trip this big is going to get to me. I'm still in the excited stage right now, but the night before the drive I'm going to be crying into my vacuum-packed pillow while I flip through Facebook photos of my life here.

Packing is hard for a move this big with so little money. I've packed the clothes I want to keep, the important little things, and I'm working hard to sell and give away everything else. But everything else are the things I use every day. Dishes, books, pillows, hair products, shelves. These things are scatter all over our studio, being used or waiting for someone to take. It's a mess and I don't think it's supposed to be like this.

It's somehow harder to pack things you don't want to keep than the things you love the most. Those were first. Favorite clothes, books, photos from the walls, small family heirlooms and both of our diplomas.

I bring home more and more boxes and try to categorize my life based on what I need and what I don't. What is important? What makes me happy? What is replaceable? What would I miss the most?

I told myself I'd spend more time with my family, while they're only an hour away and not three days. But I've only visited once. I'll see them once more to drop off a few things for storage, then again to celebrate my elopement. After that I will be sleeping on blankets on my apartment floor and waiting for the big day.

I've tried to see the friends I'll miss the most, but it's a weird time of year and everything's busy. But everyone promises to visit... as if we were only a day-trip away.

This – here – is my world. I'm leaving it behind. On purpose.

Who does that?

Right; I do.

I kind of have to keep reminding myself of that.

I do this.

I want to, and I am.

I force myself to take deep breathes and fight the urge to crawl into a ball under a pile of blankets. I really need to pack those.

I remind myself that I'm setting out on this journey because I want change. I want to live my simple, plain life somewhere that excites me. I don't want to just live where I live, I want to love where I live.

So I'm doing this. I feel it in my gut and in the tingling of my fingertips.

I feel my throat tighten and my nerves tremble, but I also feel my blood rush and my heart practical leap from my chest. Jack Kerouac said “the road is life.” I'm ready to live.

Word of the Day

Cloudy Days, The Mean Reds, and S.A.D.

I go through a lot of depression in the winter. Well, it's usually mostly in the winter; the last two summers have been pretty bad...
But in the summer it's mostly driven by guilt-- I should be out enjoying the sunshine, I should be exercising, I should be going to the pool and going for wall's and feeling good and enjoying life. But when I want those things but can't push myself into action, I feel lazy and miserable and guilty.

But in the deep winter (which has only been around for the last month, to be fair) the dysphoria seems never-ending. Like a cold, relentless cloud wrapped around your heart and body. Like nothing is good enough or worth your time or even possible.

Holly Golightly describes the Mean Reds as when your scared and miserable and you don't know why, but you can feel something bad coming [I would add that that bad thing may our may not even be real].
S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder) is a mood/mental condition in which one experiences depression only/particularly in the winter months.

I'd like to say it's easy to get over-- go outside! play a game! eat something delicious! Read Necklace of Kisses!-- but depression doesn't work that way (although those actions and more are important for the treatment of S.A.D.).

Depression isn't just feeling sad.
It's feeling miserable whether or not you actually have a reason to be.
It's compiling every bad thing in your life and being confronted with this massive wall of needs and wants and obligations and bills and your weight and your bank account and your lack of friends and your boredom and all the reasons your life (and you) aren't good enough.
It's lacking the motivation to make yourself do anything you know you need to do.
It's not enjoying the things you usually love.
It's crying for no reason.
It's a physical sensation like your chest is a black hole, pulling your body into itself. Like you're sinking into a deep, dark ocean and being pulled in by the tide. Like drowning.

Personally, I relate the Mean Reds, S.A.D. and depression as very similar, connected problems, one often leading to the other.

How do you combat something that is so very deep inside yourself?
Something that holds you down from the inside out?

I'd like to explore this a lot in the next few posts. It's important, and personal, and it never seems to really go away.

See you next time,
Stay amazing,

Cyn

wedding day possibilities

So. After seven years of people asking when we would get married (I'm not a big marriage person) it looks like it's going to happen.
It makes particular sense being that in two weeks we're driving across the country.

I can't exactly explain my general disapproval of marriage, but it mostly has to do with my own dislike of commitment, my deep antitheism (I don't need to feel connected or approved of by god), the constant modern use of marriage (our lack thereof) as a way to withhold basic human rights, and my dislike of a system that was created primarily to use women as a form of currency.

But, marriage being what it is nowadays (a bizarre mixture of religious and legal practices) I do acknowledge its legal usefulness and romantic sweetness.
I don't feel the need to prove or validate my relationship via marriage, but i see its usefulness nonetheless.
I know, I'm such a romantic... :)

But, after all of those mixed emotions, we're eloping.

And being that we are committing to this great big form of life-change, we are having parties and dinners to celebrate, and I bought an inexpensive dress for a reception of sorts because I've kind of always thought simple wedding dresses were pretty and I love any reason to celebrate.

So, since we're about to pack up to move across the country and start from scratch-- and a lot of people asked-- I set up a really cool wedding registry through Ikea to help us with our new home.
(I'm really, really excited)

Two people have bought us wedding gifts, which, personally, I find wonderful and heartfelt and amazing. I honestly didn't expect to be receiving anything.

Check out my Wedding registry at IKEA Portland, which I'm really impressed by (not my list, necessarily, but the way the site works, it's really cool, and local to Portland) (also, it has my real name; please don't stalk me)--

http://portland.gift-registry.us/Wedding/ColeMarts

Word of the Day

Word of the Day