Those of you who kept up with me (when this blog was on Yahoo 360) are aware of the other happenings that occurred, and honestly, I don't want to rehash them here. What I will say is that even when everything else was not going smoothly, knowing that I had "that home" back then to turn to made the unpleasant somehow bearable.
When I moved to a different location in late 2018, it was a far cry from the "home" I had experienced. Yet, I was removed from the conditional chaos of the previous location. That was something that I was happy about.
Sadly, I don't remember much about my first few months there because I was working so many hours at my previous job. I believe it took me about three to four months to finally get fully unpacked and truly settle in.
I was okay in this place, but my energy changed when I had to do my day-to-day. I honestly focused more on maintaining a routine than breaking my routine to explore what was around me. Especially when what was around me was a far cry from the freedom of movement I felt before.
I spent about nine years at this place before coming to terms that it was time to move again.
In 2017, my divorce had just happened, so I don't remember how present I was in the decision. Admittedly, other forces took the wheel, and I wanted to believe as much as those forces did that this spot was the answer.
And as much as I tried, it didn't.
It was as if I occupied a partial segment of an expansive void.
At the previous place, I experienced discomfort with venturing out.
With the location of 2017, there was a cloud of heaviness when going back in.
The neighborhood wasn't too much different than what I'd seen in 2018. Yet, where I'd left possessed more of me, whereas this other spot, as spacious as it was, possessed less.
It took a while for me to work through all of these feelings ... that quest to recapture the physical manifestation of home that was lost. Sure, the people around me (from 2015 until now) and even those who are no longer present provided the emotional and spiritual essence, but I wanted them all ... at the same time.
The factors that marked the disconnect were two components: (1) The decision could not be made in response to anything related to trauma, and, most importantly, (2) The choice had to primarily be my decision. Sure, others can provide input, but I had to wholeheartedly make the choice.
Sure, a place can have certain specifications that one wants, but I can't truly know if I'll like a place unless I see it up close and walk through it. Like, can I envision myself here? Can I truly see what my day-to-day will look like? Will I feel at peace, like my essence belongs in this space?
I had not asked myself all of these questions previously. And, the ones that I had asked myself, I could not revisit those questions and swear that the answers would have been different. I knew with this quest, I had to be unwavering.
I could not just be unwavering with those questions. I had to be honest if some who had come on the journey with me in 2016 forward could continue to do so.
After wrestling back and forth, I decided that it was best for Tyrion to be rehomed. When I moved in 2017, he was only six months old. He was used to where he'd grown up for most of his life. Also, when I was home (both through the furlough and working), Tyrion had gotten used to my presence for long hours of the day every day. When I resumed working outside the home and other activities, it was difficult for him to readjust.
Yes, it does make me sad. He was a big presence that provided much delight and much healing in the ups and downs of my life. I will always be grateful to the Game of Thrones cat, the tiny sole survivor of his litter who acted more like my protector than an actual cat.
It has taken twenty years since I first arrived, but finally, there is cohesion. At long last, part of the balance I've wanted in my life has manifested.
Now that everyone is in the know, I think it's just about time for me to go.