Awhile over a year ago…I once moved up to Northern California from my home in Southern California. But after almost a month or so…I just realized that I couldn’t handle it…and that I wasn’t getting any better. So I moved back down.
In addition to ‘normal’ college-blues…I suffered from post-moving depression. I had lived in the same little desert city my whole life, and a brand new area…in a brand new setting…with brand new people…was just enough to thoroughally (sp?) depress 'da heck out of me.
Besides being completely unfamiliar with my surroundings…I also dearly missed the few friends that I had left behind.
Want to know what -true- friendship is? True friendship is being able to call someone back at home…and just cry…being completely unable to get a coherent word or thought together…and realizing that they’re staying on the line listening to you every single moment.
I’m gearing up with the intention of moving out again. A little farther away this time. But I’m also a little older. A little more sure of myself. And I won’t be alone where I’m headed. But I’m still unsure of myself.
It’s not that I miss my family…or even the places…it’s the people.
I have only a few people who I’ve gotten strongly attached to. And without them…the sadness can become fierce.
So I want to ask anyone who might be more experienced at this sort of thing than I am. How does one best cope with moving away from the ones you care about?
-Ashley
But at least you’ll be doing something. Take it from a guy who’s peered into the deathly blackness too often: Doing something, anything, is the right thing. Stagnation and the fear of movement are what kill, and they kill too often. As Roosevelt said, “Above all, try something.” Falling on your face can’t hurt half as much as sitting at home crying, and getting back up and moving after a fall is the best non-phyiscal feeling I can name. The only failure is not trying.