It’s now less than two weeks before we leave.
Over the past weekend, we’ve packed all our things in the shipping crate. Then we squeezed the rest of our portable things together into 4 large suitcases and 1 carry-on.
The house we lived in the for the past three years is now empty. It already feels like someone else’s home.
I was saying to Jamie earlier this morning–the more empty the house becomes, the more displaced I feel.
I am terrified. I foolishly believed I had grown up, that this childish fear of rootlessness had been conquered when I first moved to USA. I was wrong. Moving to USA from Canada isn’t really moving. You’re still on the same continent. You can still travel between USA and Canada on your own two feet if you really wanted to go home desperately. If there was a end-of-the-world apocalypse, I could get to Canada without a plane.
Moving to Australia from here… I can’t come back easily. I can’t just jump into the ocean and end up back home. Of course practically I can fly back to Canada, but really, how often are you going to go home if you have to make such a long trip?
The mature side of me would argue that Jamie is my ‘home’ now. Selfishly, I need more than that. I need more than a person. People can leave you, but stuff can’t. Things can’t just get up on their own, decide you’re not good enough, and walk out of your life.
It’s ridiculous to feel this way. I know the Hows and Whys. Fear of displacement, abandonment–all common things to suffer from when one is the product of a dysfunctional family.
I even have the tools (writing about it is one of them) I need to help me stop feeling this way. I know how to talk myself down, I know how to remind myself that I’m an adult and that childish fears and resentments don’t dictate my life now.
I guess knowing how to fix something doesn’t make me stop hating the idea that I need repairs to begin with. The knowledge that I will always feel like this is frustrating. Yes, it’d be the adult thing to do to learn and accept our short-comings and lots in life–but that doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.