Everything seemed to fall into place perfectly, which my former AODA counselor used to say was a sign that you were on the right path. I was able to qualify for funding from a local Advocacy agency to help with the moving costs, I hired movers for the first time in my life and on November 2, I moved into my new digs.
It’s a cute place, it has character, a huge kitchen, a sizable balcony/upper porch and lots of closet space. Like many of the houses in my neighborhood it’s probably between 80-100 years old and was very likely a single family home that was converted into a flat sometime around the 1940’s, which is partially what gives it it’s unique character and floor plan, (and tiny bedrooms!)
Now, my sole purpose for moving was to save money, which I will eventually (the movers cost twice what they’d estimated) but it also was an important step for me to make this decision and go with it while in the midst of treatment for Hep C which leaves me with sporadic motivation and low (if any) energy. I knew I would be doing a lot of the work alone and I knew it would, frankly, knock me on my ass for a few days. I also knew it needed to be done and it was up to me to make it happen.
In addiction “Geographical Relocation” is a trick that people frequently use on themselves and their loved ones to create a sense of false hope for interpersonal change. “Once we get out of this neighborhood with all our history/ with all the bars/ with all our “using friends”/ (fill in any appropriate external force of control that is preventing change) “things will change”. Of course as we all know, we take our problems with us because our problems don’t live in the house, or the bar or in our friends, but within us. Naturally, with my History, I’ve dragged myself, my family and all my personal belongings down that Yellow Brick Road many times, and learned the same lesson that Dorothy ultimately learned; “Over the Rainbow” is within us all, we only need to look inside to find it.
After moving, not surprisingly I was exhausted. Not just moving exhausted but being on toxic treatment and overdoing it exhausted. Enter, stage left, sick grandchildren and next thing I know I am sick as a proverbial dog. After two days of not keeping any food down and basically sleeping the entire time, I came back to the real world long enough to realize I had a counseling session scheduled with my therapist that day. I gave him a call to let him know I wouldn’t be there and why. His response was “oh no everything was supposed to be okay after you moved”
Did I give the impression that I believed that? Did I imply I was falling for the old “Geographical Relocation” self scam? I’m pretty sure I did not, and yet his response irritated me at the time. I wasn’t sure if he was being facetious or….what. I responded by telling him that I was simply sick with a bug, no deeper meaning attached, and things will be fine.
Funny how once we’ve travelled the Yellow Brick Road, learned our lesson and moved on, we still carry the stigma of our old ways, even if only in our own minds.
© 2010 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard