Home: The People, Places and Things


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What do you remember?

Can you be certain that what you remember is, indeed, what happened to you?

On a scale of 1-10, how certain are you of the events that led you here?

Have you fallen victim to coping mechanisms? You know- the things we persistently push down because, in the moment, remembering is painful.

When something traumatic happens, the body goes into shock. Adrenaline pumps through the veins so you don’t feel any initial pain. Eventually, though, you will feel it and the pain you’ve been fighting will wash over you like a tidal wave you cannot escape.

Short term as it may be, it is human nature to avoid pain at all costs.


 

To me, New Years = hope. It’s a day where everyone comes together in celebration: of hope. It’s so simple, and so beautiful.

We take stock of all our losses and gains. Sort them into piles and spend any variable amount of time thinking of ways to either somehow dig ourselves out of the rubble from last year. Or locate the next peak, amid the fog and spend a year clawing our way toward it.

If you haven’t caught on by now, no offense but you may be a bit thick. I am not a positive person. Like, at all.

The Fundamentals: We’re gonna take it back to basics with tonight’s special, folks! I grew up honing and perfecting a cynical view of the nuclear family. Seared in a heavy dose of feminism and garnished with a healthy amount of sarcasm. Hand delivered to you, and served on an elaborate platter of “this is all clearly bull.” Finished and paired with a well rounded, full bodied merlot…because anything having to do with the “F word” by definition requires wine.

…I used to spend a lot of time in restaurants. Can you tell? I didn’t think it was obvious, but the meat is all true there. *pun intended. I digress.

It’s easy to take a step back from life when you’ve left it thousands of miles away. It’s easy to walk away from everything painful and start over. Especially when you’re already good at leaving people, places and things.

It’s a coping mechanism of mine that I’m not particularly fond of. People hurt you; so to avoid it you stop letting people, places and things into your life. You cut it off before it’s a problem. No one gets hurt because no one is attached.

Riddle me this: if everyone only had one arm on their body, would you know you should have a second?  Would you know what you’re missing out on?

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Like I said I’m not a very positive person. I’m not all bunnies and sunshine. “Elvira, the princess of darkness.” If you don’t know the significance, I’m sorry for you. Lol.

…You miiiight be beginning to see where my boyfriend and I may or may not have run into little, insignificant disagreements along the way. Nevertheless, he saw something of value within me- what that is, I’ll never know. Diamond in the rough… You could say that again!

If you know me personally- better yet, even if you don’t- would you believe me if I said I’m really trying to get better? Because I’m really trying to be better.

I have been trying every day to be more positive. The sun also rises, after all. At least that’s what they say.

I can’t tell if Korea has made me positive in the face of insurmountable negativity; or if Korea has made me too numb to care enough to be negative. Either way, it’s an improvement from where I was a year ago and for that, I’m grateful.

It does make me wonder, though. As the concept of “home” and what that means for me now draws nearer, I can’t help but wonder: Can I go home again? …Can I, Thomas Wolfe? CAN I?!

I mean this in the sense that already, everything has changed back there…and here.

Never going home again is quite possibly the most positive thing that could happen. To think of what the word used to mean for me and then to watch it disintegrate into plume of its own flames- is just as well.

Because there never was anything good about that situation…for anyone.

That’s the thing about going down swinging. When it happens you’re unaware. Probably that it’s actually happening- or you’re unaware of the extent and reach of its effects. The ripples. When it’s over, you’re in shock. You cope: Push it all down so you forget; and then you leave it all behind and never look back… because it’s easier that way. This is the easiest part- watching it all happen.

The hardest part? That’s easy to answer.

The hardest part is the beauty of it all- the magnificent reds, oranges and yellows of destruction leave opportunity in their wake. You have to dig through the ashes and rubble to find your way out. Dig like you have never dug before! You have to make your way back to the beginning. From there you can either choose to rebuild what has fallen or abandon all hope of that and decide where to go next.

That’s the hardest part.

Embarking on a journey home is just as terrifying as embarking on a journey away from it. Sometimes, the unknown can be just as unwelcome as familiarity.

Therein, lies the truth: is it the physical place you want to go back to? The structure, the location- your emotional ties to those things. Or is it that, for you, home never included those things. Maybe it’s the people you’re going back to. For you, home is wherever your people are.

Either way, you’re forced to ask yourself the hardest questions:

Can I go back?

Do I want to go back to that?

What do I remember?

Can I be certain that what I remember is, indeed, what happened to me?

On a scale of 1-10, how certain am I of the events that led me here?

Have I fallen victim to coping mechanisms?

Am I able to remember with objectivity?


 

 

Are you someone who has ventured away from home? What did you find most difficult- saying goodbye or hello to familiarity?

Let me know in the comments! If you do, remember as always:

Feel free to walk your dog on my property. Puppies are adorable! But don’t you dare let it poop on my lawn…

XoXo

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