I don't care what anyone says.
Post-move depression is as real as postpartum depression...
I don't know that I have had a single move where I haven't felt this--but you forget. You forget how horribly your heart will ache and how lonely it will feel. You forget that you will be the outsider in conversations, or that the conversation that IS made with you will not be anyone wanting anything real. Deep. Meaningful. It's just surface chit chat--"are you getting settled? Are you in your house? How are things going?" You forget that everything will change--your routine, anything consistent in your life will fly out the window. You forget that stress added on top will just smother the sparks of happiness you're so desperately trying to see. You forget all of these things...At least I did.
And it is never that people aren't nice. Or that people don't care. It's simply that change is hard. And change brings every teeny tiny insecurity bubbling to the stop and just spilling over in an emotional eruption.
I'm trying to combat this--trying to reach out and find others to serve. Trying to invite others over and host dinners or swimming. I am sure on the outside it seems like it's no biggie for me. What nobody sees is the dragon of anxiety that sneaks out of the shadows when I face responses of busy schedules, and previous plans. Because even though I know those things are very real, it is so very easy--so very IRRATIONAL--to internalize it as personal rejection.
I know this won't last forever. Right now, though, it feels like it. I am telling myself to just give it time--that we will find ourselves with good friends, and a consistent routine, and that there won't always be this worry and stress and feeling like I am making a massive fool out of myself all. the. time.
Moving on. Moving ahead. Setting goals. Realizing I can't be where I want to be with the wave of a magic wand (unless someone has one they haven't told me about--in which case, hand it over!)
I watched this video today and it really spoke to where I am at. I sobbed through it--I am grateful for a Master gardener who saw the bigger picture. I wish it didn't hurt so much...moving, change, everything. But I am trusting his plan to turn me into something better than I can imagine.
