Clipped wings
Until I was ten we moved every 4-6 months, without fail. My mother is bi-polar and every time things started to get tough, or boring, she would pack us up and move, sometimes only as far as across the street. It had something to do with constant upward motion, socially speaking, and this idea that staying in one spot was the thing that was going to kill her marriage, our family. I guess she was right, in a way. My parents divorced after eighteen years together once they bought a house. Mom and I went back to moving every couple of months after the divorce.
The constant need to take flight as a way to shake things up, challenge myself, and to, in some small way, prove that I'm still capable of dealing with a crisis (is that even the right word?) has stuck with me and I struggle periodically with this desire to throw my stuff in a bag and take off for a few months. If I'm away, won't my heart grow fonder? Won't I become more interesting because I've better stories to tell?
And that's the driving force these days, fighting the absolute boredom that comes with my current version of stability.
I'm not saying that it's impossible to have full, fulfilling lives and maintain a healthy, happy, loving home life. I'm just saying that, for me, I can't. My husband, who is wonderful when held up against the impossibly long line of bad choices, is dull. Which makes me dull. Because we are who we spend the most time with, aren't we? Our nights are spent on the couch, our weekends much the same, with very little in our schedule to appeal to my desperate-to-hang on spirit.
Since actually disappearing for a few months is ridiculously selfish and unreasonably damaging to Nora, I'm looking for suggestions on how to stick it out.....until the next time I feel like running.
The constant need to take flight as a way to shake things up, challenge myself, and to, in some small way, prove that I'm still capable of dealing with a crisis (is that even the right word?) has stuck with me and I struggle periodically with this desire to throw my stuff in a bag and take off for a few months. If I'm away, won't my heart grow fonder? Won't I become more interesting because I've better stories to tell?
And that's the driving force these days, fighting the absolute boredom that comes with my current version of stability.
I'm not saying that it's impossible to have full, fulfilling lives and maintain a healthy, happy, loving home life. I'm just saying that, for me, I can't. My husband, who is wonderful when held up against the impossibly long line of bad choices, is dull. Which makes me dull. Because we are who we spend the most time with, aren't we? Our nights are spent on the couch, our weekends much the same, with very little in our schedule to appeal to my desperate-to-hang on spirit.
Since actually disappearing for a few months is ridiculously selfish and unreasonably damaging to Nora, I'm looking for suggestions on how to stick it out.....until the next time I feel like running.
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