There are just three days of NaNoWriMo left. I made the mistake of choosing the room beneath my sons’ room for my office… hence the reason most of my work never begins until well after midnight. I am sitting here at not even nine p.m. with all intentions of working, however, I cannot concentrate because there is some kind of acrobatic hullabaloo going on just above my head.
So I write this instead.
One of the biggest triggers of my anxiety and depression is my location. We move around every few years as most military folk do. For some reason, God decided to bless me with two different assignments in the South. Now, some people are made for (born for) Southern living. But not me. I am the oil to its water. I learned that very quickly during our first four-year assignment in South Carolina. I was granted a brief but extremely happy reprieve for eight months when we were sent back out to Central California. I felt balanced. I felt whole. I knew who I was. We were happy. And then – because for some reason I didn’t get enough time in the South – we were sent back. We are currently just two short hours away from where we were the first time (for an even bigger kick in the gut).
Some will say (to include the infinite wisdom of iced tea bottle caps) “bloom where you are planted!”
I have tried. Over and over again, I have tried. It’s just not in me to do that here. I’m just not wired that way – and that’s okay. Not everyone can survive and be happy everywhere. I envy those who can.
I have already told my husband that if he gets orders that keep us here for more than one more year, then I am leaving the South without him and he can meet up with us when he can. I don’t know why, but I just can’t hack it here. This is in no way a jab at my southern friends. You thrive and flourish here, and I so envy that about you. And I love that for you. Some day I will find my “home.”
On the plus side… my husband surprised me with an early ChristmasAnniversary gift – a brand new desk!! It’s got all the space I need, and then some. No more nights of frustrated shuffling because only one item fit at a time on the old writing desk. But I have all my books that I refer to when working out a story, and I have notes everywhere and it helps to not have to hold everything in my hands while I try to write. It disrupts my writing zen. Anyway, this desk is gorgeous, but it’s so big that now I will need to rearrange my entire office because the layout feels off. Haha. Welcome to my life. In better light, I will get some pictures. (After I rearrange my office, of course.)