Moving ... again!

As a child, I moved a lot ... not by choice. Every time my father was transferred between army units (which was every 3 years), I had to cope with the stress and I simply hated it. I attended seven schools, which may not seem much in comparison to what other children go through, but for me it was awful.  Each move affected me negatively: socially, emotionally, and academically.

My childhood trauma has obviously left its mark. Every time I have to move it shatters my sense of security. I have nightmares of my father (who sadly passed away in 1990), and I'm left feeling helpless and vulnerable.

Now I'm moving again ... not because I want to, but because I have to. I'm also moving to a place I do not like. Knowing that I do not like the place has made me consider many different options. I've considered resigning and moving to the city where my husband works. I've considered moving elsewhere in town. Balancing the pros and cons has been tough. Financially, any move I make, other than the one forced upon me, will be a burden.

My health has been affected: I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't think clearly. The only way I'm going to regain my sanity and good health is by accepting my fate. So, perhaps now, whilst writing, I should make peace with the inevitable. 

Over the next few days, I'll be packed and unpacked. Of course, there's packing and packing.

This is not the way I do it.

I'm just not that organized. I love the idea, but with me, it starts out well-planned only in my head. Then it gets worse. Reality sets in.

The most important thing is that I get there and settle in, eventually. So here's looking forward to the last week of 2010, me and the big move.