Thursday, June 24, 2010


I feel like it's been weeks since I have blogged when in actuality it's only been three days. There is so much going on that I don't have time to think. I sit down at my desk and go, "what do I need to do now?"

It seems like at least once a day I am having a panic attack. Not full blown, just enough anxiety to make me start talking fast with worry and/or crying. Sometimes a thought crosses my mind that makes my stomach drop. Most of the time it's the thought of me being on a plane. I hate planes. I hate them so much. I have been on three flights my entire life, and two of them were trans-continental. It's the turbulence that freaks me out. I've tried to explain this to my husband a million times, but I guess he doesn't understand the anxious mind. When a bout of turbulence hits, I don't think, "okay this is normal". I let my mind and anxiety get the best of me and let myself visualize the plane going down, or an engine catching on fire or something. Seriously. I have a game plan set up so far. The plane leaves at midnight, so I plan on waking up at like 9 a.m. that morning so I'll be super tired come flight time, then pop 2 or 3 Xanax and (hopefully) sleep away a chunk of the 13-hour flight.

Speaking of anxiety getting the best of me, I am convinced that if I leave my grandpa will die. I know that's a morbid thing to think, but it crosses my mind all of the time now. I understand that he's almost 84 and will probably die sooner or later anyway, but I feel like the minute I leave something bad will happen and I will be stuck in Australia. Could I forgive myself? I'm also convinced my mom's cancer will come back. Just last week she had knee surgery and a cracked tooth, so she is at home miserable. She told me yesterday she was depressed. My mom is like Superman. I've seen her cry maybe five times in my whole life. She told me she was depressed after my grandma (her mom) passed away, but that's a given. Right now she's depressed because she hates her job, is struggling with money, and her body is all out of whack. Plus she has an upcoming appointment with her oncologist to check on another suspicious mole. I feel like I'm going to get a phone call from her saying this time it's inoperable or incurable.

We are still looking for a home for our cats, but on the bright side we have family that will take the both of them if we can't find anyone near where we live that would want both of them. That's a huge relief. It's still going to be so hard to say goodbye, I don't know how I'm going to deal with it. The family lives in Washington so we will have to take a 16 hour drive up there, which I don't mind. I have to sell my car by the time we leave, and yet another thing I am convinced of is something will happen to my car when we drive that far. A car accident, or overheating, or a new belt is all I need right now when I'm trying to sell it for a decent price.

I'm still separating things into "sell" boxes and "keep" boxes. I have a lot of "sell boxes", surprisingly. I thought I would want to take all of this crap that means so much to me, but in the long run it will just cost too much to ship. I keep looking around and making tallies: sell the entertainment system, the engraved wood chest, the bookshelf and the matching furniture. Everything. I am leaving everything. A lot of people feel possessions are just material, that they can be replaced, but sometimes the thoughts or memories that come up by looking at something makes you sad you have to give it away.

What usually comes out of my mouth when I start talking to my husband in a panic is "how did you do this? How did you leave everything behind and move here??" J moved here within three weeks of getting his U.S. Visa approved. He packed a big suitcase with only clothes, some pictures and books, and started living here. The end. He didn't have bills. Furniture. Knick knacks. He went from a town of 7,000 with one McDonalds in a two-hour radius to an area with about a million people in it. You can get anything in America. He usually replies, "don't you think I went through the same thing you're going through right now?" I think in comparison, he didn't. I'm not trying to negate his feelings or anything, but when he came over, we were in love. Anyone in a long term relationship with someone knows what I mean. Back then, I would have swam the Pacific to be with J. On our vacations we would spend hours in bed just happy with each other's company. Now that the love drug has worn off, I have to sit with the reality of what is happening.

When I move over there, even though J's parents are helping us out, I will be alone. At square one. I will have zero money, no job, no comfortable private time, no friends, no family. I wish my husband could understand this. He tells me that I have his family now, but it's not the same. I still have credit cards that need to be paid off. How do I go about asking someone that's not my family for money? I can't, I'm too embarrassed. But I also don't plan on defaulting and getting a terrible credit rating in America. I will have to eat food prepared for me, and that makes me extremely anxious. I don't like to eat around other people. I don't like picking at my food while someone else watches. I also know it's rude to not eat food given to you. Even typing all these things are making me shake and breathe faster thinking about them.

Although I have been described as "dependent", I actually am very independent. I have always had my own money and my own bills. My adult relationships have usually ended up with me paying everything or keeping money separate from my boyfriend's. I've also made my own decisions and am very headstrong. If I want something, I get it. When we move I am going to be 100% reliant on my husband, and that scares the crap out of me. We started this relationship with me wearing the pants because of the situation we were in. I pay all of our bills and make 95% of the money. I'm not concerned if my husband will be able to do it, I know he can. I'm concerned about me not having any power or say anymore. I have never had to rely on a man for anything, ever. Maybe I would feel better if we had $5,000 saved up and knew what we were getting ourselves into. But I don't and we don't. It's a jump from a cliff so high you can't see the bottom.

I do believe in fate. I was expecting a roadblock to keep us from moving. So far, everything has worked out in Australia's favor. I'm not imagining a "happily ever after" there. I will turn 30 a month after we get there and I will have no friends or family to celebrate it with. No big sushi birthday dinner. No trip to Las Vegas. Nothing. I'm trying to be hopeful though. Hoping my husband gets a good job that will make him happy and set us up to find our own place. Hoping a change of scenery might be something, anything to get me out of this funk and get me productive. Hoping my husband and I can actually start our life together with no stress or "what-ifs". And especially hoping no one dies anytime soon.


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