AMBIENT THOUGHT – Special Edition: MOVE!!!

The following and all of the other episodes to come are snapshots of what goes on in my head, now and in the past. There are times none of this will make sense. There will be times when I might get lucky and the blog I post will be well constructed and will flow like a mountain stream to an awaiting lake below. Other times it will seem like the ramblings of a madman and you’ll ask yourself, “What the……?”
You should probably get used to the latter.

AMBIENT THOUGHT – SPECIAL EDITION: MOVE!!!

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It’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going…
-Tom Petty (Time To Move On)

and

“Let him that would move the world first move himself.” -Socrates.

 

In my 48 years of life, I have moved a total of thirteen times. To some, that’s a lot. To others, it’s nothing.
But even if you have moved just once, it’s a trying time.
It’s stressful.
It’s confusing.
It’s tiring.
But if you know that it’s the correct thing (though scary), it can be a blessing and healing.
A breath of fresh air.
And I know I’m not the only one who has thought so. If you left a bad situation and moved away to a better one, it was worth it. Right?

The first time I moved, I had no idea it was happening. I was about six months old and my parents moved us from Texas back to Tennessee (well, it was the first time for me). My dad was in the Air Force and stationed near Fort Worth. And I was born there. Then the time came for them to come back to Tennessee and I began my life in what I consider my childhood home. It’s the home that I formed the person I became. It was a very formable time.

And when my parents decided to move away from there and into the country, it was a huge shock to my system. But I came to love living there. We had some woods in our back yard and I spent a lot of time there. I found I loved it more than my childhood home.

It’s those two homes that I think about the most. The one in town where I learned about family and tradition and learned to use my imagination and the house in the country where I learned about solitude and patience and to hone my imagination.

The rest of the moves were either based on divorce (my parents and my own years later), moving to live with a roommate and one with a girlfriend which was followed not long after back home.

And, now, I find myself in a home with my wife, my cat, and my dog. We were finally able to move away from the condo that we lived in for over fifteen years where the neighborhood started its downward slide and the neighbors became more uncaring what they did and how they did it. Speaking for myself, I felt like a prisoner in my own home. Coming home from somewhere, I would shut my vehicle’s door quickly, keep my head down, and head for the front door. It was a poisonous situation that caused my depression and anxiety to swing out of control. Living there caused sleepless nights worrying about what the neighbors were doing in the dark. Living next to us, we have had people who liked to party into the night with their music loud, we have had angry neighbors who yelled at you for no reason, drug dealers, and a child abuser and an animal abuser (this was the same person).
And this was from just ONE condo that we shared a wall with.

It became torture.

And this condo, built in the mid-seventies, had started to fall apart. Cracked walls due to a failing foundation. Even the bathtub on the second floor was slowly pulling from the wall, causing a gap that would allow water to drip down onto the ceiling above the living room causing a huge mess. Then, they decided to fix the foundation, putting jacks under the condo and lifting it up. And that caused even more problems.

The only thing that we had to be happy about was ourselves. And, of course, that was wonderful. But the time had come to get the hell out of there.

Long story short, we finally found ourselves a house that feels like the home we have always wanted. The backyard, the two large trees, the garage (one side my wife has her parking space, the other is the workshop I have wanted for a VERY long time), and the comfort that we have been searching for, LONGING for.

Yes, I know. There are always going to be something to fix to keep in check.
Of course. That comes with owning a home and maintaining it.

But here, we feel like we OWN it. It’s OURS. The walls on the other side of our walls are still OURS. The only thing we share is property lines. But our neighbors are at a distance. I can play music in the living room and don’t have to worry about it being too loud that it might disturb who’s on the other side of the living room wall. For those that have never had to share a wall with a stranger, you’re lucky.
Sure, there are people that prefer the condo/apartment life. If you’re one, power to you. If that’s for you, go for it.
But not me.
I need space. I need to be able to walk outside into my own yard and just stand there if I want to.
I need the peace that it brings.

And speaking of neighbors, I have met the ones that live around us in the short time we have been here, either speaking or raising a hand in a wave. So far, they have been nice and welcoming.

I hope that this move means less sadness.
I hope it means less depression and anxiety.
I hope it means more happiness.

And I hope it’s the last move I ever have to make.

Well, second to last.

-Loyd Elmore Jr
June 26th, 2020

 

I’ve decided to keep a blog about how I’m dealing with depression. I’m going to consider this a form of therapy. It might not help anybody else but it might help me.

 

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