(no subject)
This is me having an expression of doubt and unhappiness. This is not me thinking I've made an error, and I say all this knowing full well that I am the architect of this situation. I'm just going through a lot of discomfort and need to work it out.
MOVING: The Bad
Is it that...
I miss Randall? I forgot how untethered I feel without someone to come home to, and what a kind, calm, entertaining, loving presence he is in my life. This is not a love letter, but he invariably improves my mood, calms me down when I'm flying off the handle, and makes me feel like I'm in the right place and right time just by being there with me. He also makes sure I'm taking care of myself. Totally been taking that shit for granted. Goddamn I love that wiener man.
I don't know where anything is, so each time I need to get groceries, or see other humans, or just not see the walls of this apartment, it's once more unto the breach. Everything outside of this space is an unknown, but this space i'm most familiar with is depressing as fuck. I guess this is my cue to become a regular somewhere.
Yeah, this apartment. Nothing's *wrong* with it but it isn't the kind of place I would choose to live. It's new, soulless, contrived, loud, ugly, and I don't feel as if I can unpack as we're not going to be here very long (I hope). It's in a convenient location but it's on a busy street with nothing interesting nearby. A sense of home is something I've sought all my life and in the past few years I've really had it. It grounded me and gave root to my sanity, creativity, and stability and now I'm hard-pressed to find that here.
My friends. When I need to see other humans, I don't know who to go to. I miss my people and the things we'd do. Local acquaintances, coworkers and even strangers have been universally lovely and welcoming, but they're all still strange. Potential friends, yes, but no family yet. All perfectly normal, but unsettling.
I'm just off kilter and can't seem to get right. I feel hung over, depressed, and tired all the time. Migraines (awful), tummy troubles and a minor back injury haven't helped. Songs come on the radio and I burst into tears. I feel like I should call in sick to work tomorrow, but then I realize that staying "home" here won't make me feel rested or better. This is what depression with a side of anxiety looks like.
I feel a lot of responsibility for this decision and its effects outside of myself. I hope Max is happy here, and I hope Randall is more than happy here. I hope he's relaxed and fulfilled and we have a ton of fun. But right now with just me even the cats seem depressed.
MOVING: The Good
Well, moving itself is pretty much all bad, but I can tell you quite a few good things about Portland itself.
It's really pretty. Everything is much more alive here than the bay area. It's green and the colors are saturated and the foliage is casually languid. It has rained more than once, but I have no complaints about that yet. Stunning clouds too. It's quite lovely and there's also many interesting buildings from the last couple of centuries to look at. California seems very dry in comparison.
It's relaxed. People (in general) are not in a huge rush. Work does not seem to rule over all other aspects of life here. I have not yet heard anyone decline an invitation because it's "a school night." In related news, there's no maddening commute (for me anyway) and drivers are super polite. Some would say to a fault, but I like it.
You really can bike all over and there appears to be a municipal respect for bikers that results in it feeling pretty safe.
The coffee, the food, etc. Good stuff everywhere you look. No problem being gluten-free (or vegan, or carnivore) either. You can't go three blocks without seeing a business that looks intriguing enough to stop for. Many bars with patios and pinball machines.
There's way more music and comedy venues per capita compared to the bay area (or appears to be) and people use them. Some say that it's because Portland is full of trust fund babies, but I'm not one of them and I get to enjoy it. You can see the presence of other arts too, but I'll have to report back on those.
People have been friendly and kind. Immediately, on a level that would take bay area people many meetings to get to. It's hopeful for me. People are also individualistic and weird and it's heartening to see. It is a lot like Berkeley but so far it seems like a bigger, better, less befuddled Berkeley if that makes any sense.
I am hopeful.
In three days I get Randall and Max back and then I hope to start looking at this place through happier eyes.
MOVING: The Bad
Is it that...
I miss Randall? I forgot how untethered I feel without someone to come home to, and what a kind, calm, entertaining, loving presence he is in my life. This is not a love letter, but he invariably improves my mood, calms me down when I'm flying off the handle, and makes me feel like I'm in the right place and right time just by being there with me. He also makes sure I'm taking care of myself. Totally been taking that shit for granted. Goddamn I love that wiener man.
I don't know where anything is, so each time I need to get groceries, or see other humans, or just not see the walls of this apartment, it's once more unto the breach. Everything outside of this space is an unknown, but this space i'm most familiar with is depressing as fuck. I guess this is my cue to become a regular somewhere.
Yeah, this apartment. Nothing's *wrong* with it but it isn't the kind of place I would choose to live. It's new, soulless, contrived, loud, ugly, and I don't feel as if I can unpack as we're not going to be here very long (I hope). It's in a convenient location but it's on a busy street with nothing interesting nearby. A sense of home is something I've sought all my life and in the past few years I've really had it. It grounded me and gave root to my sanity, creativity, and stability and now I'm hard-pressed to find that here.
My friends. When I need to see other humans, I don't know who to go to. I miss my people and the things we'd do. Local acquaintances, coworkers and even strangers have been universally lovely and welcoming, but they're all still strange. Potential friends, yes, but no family yet. All perfectly normal, but unsettling.
I'm just off kilter and can't seem to get right. I feel hung over, depressed, and tired all the time. Migraines (awful), tummy troubles and a minor back injury haven't helped. Songs come on the radio and I burst into tears. I feel like I should call in sick to work tomorrow, but then I realize that staying "home" here won't make me feel rested or better. This is what depression with a side of anxiety looks like.
I feel a lot of responsibility for this decision and its effects outside of myself. I hope Max is happy here, and I hope Randall is more than happy here. I hope he's relaxed and fulfilled and we have a ton of fun. But right now with just me even the cats seem depressed.
MOVING: The Good
Well, moving itself is pretty much all bad, but I can tell you quite a few good things about Portland itself.
It's really pretty. Everything is much more alive here than the bay area. It's green and the colors are saturated and the foliage is casually languid. It has rained more than once, but I have no complaints about that yet. Stunning clouds too. It's quite lovely and there's also many interesting buildings from the last couple of centuries to look at. California seems very dry in comparison.
It's relaxed. People (in general) are not in a huge rush. Work does not seem to rule over all other aspects of life here. I have not yet heard anyone decline an invitation because it's "a school night." In related news, there's no maddening commute (for me anyway) and drivers are super polite. Some would say to a fault, but I like it.
You really can bike all over and there appears to be a municipal respect for bikers that results in it feeling pretty safe.
The coffee, the food, etc. Good stuff everywhere you look. No problem being gluten-free (or vegan, or carnivore) either. You can't go three blocks without seeing a business that looks intriguing enough to stop for. Many bars with patios and pinball machines.
There's way more music and comedy venues per capita compared to the bay area (or appears to be) and people use them. Some say that it's because Portland is full of trust fund babies, but I'm not one of them and I get to enjoy it. You can see the presence of other arts too, but I'll have to report back on those.
People have been friendly and kind. Immediately, on a level that would take bay area people many meetings to get to. It's hopeful for me. People are also individualistic and weird and it's heartening to see. It is a lot like Berkeley but so far it seems like a bigger, better, less befuddled Berkeley if that makes any sense.
I am hopeful.
In three days I get Randall and Max back and then I hope to start looking at this place through happier eyes.