These next few weeks are going to be a time of fairly significant upheaval for me. Why, you ask? I'm moving back to Virginia. DC peeps, quell your excitement. I'm moving to a different area of Virginia (SE part) and yes, with my parents. My parents were older when they had me, and so my dad was finally able to retire last month. They bought a nice ranch because my mom's knees are giving her trouble, and it's just 2-3 hours from DC. Did I mention they bought the house right as they found out I had relapsed? Smashing timing there.
Our house here in Michigan finally sold--closing was yesterday--and the moving truck arrives on Monday. Even as the weather has rapidly grown too cold to use my bike, I have been expending plenty of energy packing boxes and hauling old furniture around. I am utterly exhausted.
Obviously, this means lots of changes. I will be moving away from my treatment team (I had my last appointment with my therapist this morning), and away from the place I have always called "home." I don't have a whole lot of emotional attachment to the house, as my living there over the past 10 years has been pretty sporadic. But I have to learn my way around a new area, find a new treatment team, and figure out what I'm going to do next with my life.
I initially wanted to find a job in the DC area and move back out on my own. I brought this up to my therapist, who gently reminded me that, although I had made a lot of progress, I wasn't yet ready to be totally on my own. So I decided to take this opportunity and try my hand at freelance writing full-time. Actually, part-time. I will look for a part-time job as well to provide some steady income and to get me out of the house. I'll convert a corner of the spare room above the garage to my little "office space," and do my writing there.
I'm not sure what will come of this right now. I keep thinking, "But what if I fail?" Which is a possibility- it's not easy to "make it" as a writer. On the other hand, I don't have the time or energy to contemplate that. As long as I have a Plan B, it will be too easy to give up on Plan A. Maybe the final version of Plan A won't look exactly the same in several days, months, weeks, or years. That's okay. For many years, I thought I would be a research scientist, until life in the lab began to gnaw away at me. I will figure out a way to write. How much my writing will occupy my time and provide my income remains to be seen.
I have several ideas in the works--several related to eating disorders and several not. I will keep you updated on these as I can. In the meantime, my blog isn't going anywhere, although there will likely be a few days in the coming week where I don't post as I won't have Internet access.
I still hate changes, even though my therapist takes pain to remind me that this is an exciting time in my life, that good things could come of this, blah blah blah. It's still changes and I still don't like it. I also know I'll adjust.