Over the past several years my life has been a gigantic roller coaster – much like the hills of Northern Ontario, which I have driven across three times in those several years.
Safe to say, my life has not been anything you would call stable since I left college – seven jobs, a real relationship, engagement and marriage, six moves (Ottawa-Alberta and back, Ottawa-Northwestern Ontario and back, Mom’s house – shared apartment, shared apartment-shared townhouse). Throw in a puppy, a bout of unemployment, and here I am, having just become re-unemployed.
So today I took advantage of Westjet’s seat sale and purchased my ticket to Regina, leaving January 4 to find bigger and better things that the Prairies are supposed to have in spades.
I have no idea if it’s a mistake abandoning my new husband and taking our puppy across the country to live with my mother and prowl the streets for opportunities. There are many pros to this plan – we were planning on moving and this is probably the perfect time. I can get set up there and be ready for Joe when he arrives in April. Still, for all the arguments, the fear is astounding.
I’m not good at making friends – even less so when Joe’s not around – there are a lot of things about me that have vastly improved since he came into my life, including my ability to interact in public. I’m terrified that I will crawl directly back into my shell while we’re apart. I don’t want to revert to the girl I was in high school – or even the girl I was in Fort Frances. I worked and then went home and ate and watched TV. It’s no surprise that I gained about 50 lbs. while I was living there – I had no life.
It seems as though just as I start building a real life here in Ottawa, fate is telling me to get out of dodge.
It all make so much sense when I think about it logically – but I’m scared of losing touch with everything I have here right now, because that’s the pattern I followed in the past. I’m terrible at keeping touch with people because I am convinced that I make so little of an impression on anyone that they will forget me as soon as I’m gone and there is no reason to cause myself the pain of realizing that I have actually been forgotten.
Never has this hypothesis been proven, but my brain works the way my brain works.
A few things have changed that might make this time different: The embarrassment of never having been in a relationship is gone – I’m married; I have hobbies that will allow me to run into people – Regina has a knitting store, and probably some stitch and bitch groups; I have a puppy who will demand to be socialized, and that means socializing for me too; I have family in town – family my age who have friends my age.
When I think about it, I am optimistic about this plan, and I’m not turning back now, when I think about it too hard I want to sit in my closet with my head in my hands and not think about it anymore.