Dredging Up Gunk

The movers came today and I’m settling in to my new little Bag End. Had a bit of a freakout packing up the old place – okay, a big freakout. It just felt like every negative emotion in me was getting slushed up and mixed around with every bit of stuff I packed. Went back to thinking about the ex, his girlfriend, how much I miss my dad, how alone I am, down, down, down in a pity spiral. Was the sludge just more firmly packed when I was younger or was there less of it to get swirled up?

I used to have such wanderlust, always thinking of the next cool place I could live, and picking up and just going there without a second thought. Now I want to settle in and grow some roots and move maybe one more time ever. I don’t know what’s made me more afraid of change lately – I guess that’s just age. There’s an element of knowing that geography doesn’t change much about who I am, but also a definite fear of leaving something safe.

Anyway, my friend came over and stayed with me for the move – and brought sugary lovely things too. A friend helped me through my last big freakout too. I know I’m surrounded by tons of love and it feels self-centered to be so dismissive of that, always wanting a different kind of love. Does any single woman really ever let go of wanting a romantic relationship? I was raised to be an incredibly independent, smart woman. When and how did my self worth get so tied to a man loving me or not?

Sheesh, and all this just from throwing some dishes and books in boxes. Never moving again.


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