mist covered mountains of home

 

Twelve in12

 Reading 

The Lance Thrower ~ Jack Whyte
 

Finished

I’ve needed to write for a while now, just haven’t really figured out how to start.

The trip home was perfect.  Not everything went as planned and it included setting off three smoke detectors during my New Years Eve party!  I didn’t get to see everyone that I wanted to see, but I figured that was bound to happen.  With the snow storm that hit the northeast, travel for everyone was thrown off.  There was also a stomach bug that was going around, which I dodged, but took down a few of my friends.

It was amazing to be back in NY.  I’m trying to stop calling it home, because I want to make the effort to see GR as home.  But I think part of the problem is that I don’t have a "home" here.  I’m living in limbo, in between.  These people are wonderful to open their home to me the way that they have, but its their home, not mine.  I’m frustrated by my failed efforts to get a job and move into my own place, to find my own "home."

Over and over again I had to face friends who wanted me to come back to NY.  I walked in places that caused my heart to vibrate with happiness.  I spent time with people that caused my soul to vibrate.  I felt like my whole being was just vibrating with happiness.  You know how a dog can become so excited that they just tremble?  Thats how I felt from the moment the train crossed into NY to the moment I boarded the train to come back here.  I trembled from excitement and joy.

The fallout was coming back to GR and the resulting lack of joy.  I do love the people here, but its just not the same.  I’m trying to give it time.  I’m trying to reach out and find that joy here.  But its far and few, when compared to the joys I find in NY.

I saw Mike.  To his credit, he listened to my complaints of GR and did not demand that I go back to NY.  But I know he wishes I would move back.  I know that if I did, he and I would start up again.  He’s grown up and he now wants a white-picket fence and kids and a dog; everything I always wished he would want with me.  I honestly don’t know what would happen if I moved back to NY, and if he and I would work out or not.  He asked about my faith, genuinely asked about what I believe and why I do.  I don’t think I answered him completely, but the fact that he’s asking says a lot.  I know that he was loath to leave me.  The tables are turned and its no longer him doing the leaving.  He’s the one being left behind.  I’m really not sure we would work out because our relationship has always been very selfish.  We’ve each been consumed with what we want individually, happy when it syncs together, but not always reaching out to meet the other person.  In a way, its what he taught me.  He was focused on himself when we first met.  He can be very caring and considerate, but at the base of his being, he was self-serving.  I don’t really mean in a bad way, but he made sure he took care of himself.  It was something he had learned growing up in the world he did.  If he didn’t take care of himself, no one would.  It was both good and bad for me.  I had been living for others for so long, our relationship was the first time I had really put myself first.  It was the first time I really started taking care of me.  To an extent thats good.  And for what we were back then, it worked.  But for a marriage, a serious relationship, you have to be able to put the other person first.

In honesty, this didn’t always make sense to me.  Being bipolar, I’m constantly struggling to keep the balancing of helping others, but keeping myself healthy as well.  But looking at my parents, I figured it out.  My  mother puts my father first, because she knows that he puts her first.  She can worry about his needs because she knows he is worrying about her needs, and vice versa.  It sounds so simple and yet its incredibly complicated.  And in this world of "me, myself and I" how do you cultivate and find a relationship with someone like that?  I don’t know the answer to it.  But I saw in Mike, for the very first time, a desire to put me ahead of his own needs.  It really made me question if I should pursue something with him.  Which in turn made me question if I should really be here in GR.

I still don’t really know the answer, unfortunately.  I struggle with a lot of issues at the church.  I struggle with the knowledge that I don’t have a lot of friends here in GR.  I feel that if I were to leave I would not be missed the way I’m missed in NY.  Now maybe thats not a fair comparison, because I spent over 20 years in NY.  Thats a lot of time for relationships to be built.  I’ve barely been here two years.  On the flip side, after one year in Fredonia, I had more friends than I do here after 2 years.  I can’t seem to figure out exactly the difference or how to make it change.

There are so many things back in NY that pull on my heartstrings.  So many things that I know I could do, I could make better, I could be great at.  There is a part of me that feels that my talents, my knowledge and expertise is being wasted here.  I feel replaceable, expendable.  Maybe thats selfish, and I struggle with that feeling as well.  But feeling like that day after day wears on a person.  And its definitely not a good thing to be feeling as I fight off bipolar tendencies and stresses.  After this visit home, I know how much I’m wanted and missed.  I was told over and over that I should move back to NY, that they wanted me to be there.  By different people in different ways.  They really, really want me there.

I have to remember that Blythefield really wants me here too.  They courted me during the job interview.  In some aspects, I know the honeymoon is over and the reality of the job is hitting me.  Its not a reality that I was unprepared for, but the other things that I find lacking.  Having real friends.  Having a proper home.  Having someone out here I can really relate to, someone I can really talk to.  I thought I had found that person in Laura, but she and I are too different.  I do consider her a friend and most of the time I do enjoy her company.  But I need a Mouse or a James out here.  Someone who…  I don’t even know how to explain it really.  Someone to really see me.  Someone to encourage my passions and encourage my growth, but also letting me do the same.  The conversations James and I used to have… still have on a much more irregular basis, are priceless.  The same with Mouse and I.  And Mike and I, and Nitta and even Phil.

I’m struggling with my decision to stay here.  The worst was a few days after I returned.  Mike and I were texting and he asked how things were going out here.  I was incredibly frustrated and feeling very alone.  He was going to call, but for whatever reason, never did.  I pushed through the weekend and I’m starting to feel better.  But its not the same.  It doesn’t need to be the same, and I understand that.  But I’m still lonely and I’m still wondering what the hell I’m doing out here.

Even with all those thoughts, I’m not ready to give up yet.  I’m not ready to pack it in and run home with my tail between my legs.  But its getting closer with each passing day.  Who wouldn’t want to live in a land with this view?

aABOVE: View from Walkway over the Hudson
BELOW: View from Vanderbilt Mansion