This is one of the latter.
It’s been a big change, enough to throw anyone off. Skyscrapers to (relatively) big sky. Neighbors I’d known for years to knowing no one. A ten-minute walk to the subway to a ten minute wait for a bus. Modern, concrete construction to rickety floors, a complete lack of right angles, and plumbing that I suspect is not up to code. And the big one: living alone to sharing space with someone, full-time, every day. It doesn’t matter how much you want it; it’s still a big change.
Bob is the best thing that ever happened to me, and each day I feel overwhelmingly happy and grateful to have him in my life. He certainly expected that I might have some tough days or feel depressed. But I didn’t. Instead, I’ve treated each day as a grand adventure, with something new to experience and a new project to undertake, and any feeling of less-than elation is enough to make me feel guilty and depressed about the possibility of feeling depressed. Yes, I understand that’s circular.
Yes, I’ve done a lot. I’ve unpacked and hung art and made a nice home that feels like ours and gotten to know the neighborhood, which I genuinely like. Yes, there is much goodness in my world, and in my life. But today I need I just feel sadness and despair.
I still haven’t found a job, even more scary in this economy.
I miss seeing my neighbors and playing with their dogs.
I feel that never again will I have a normal social life or occasionally see a friend without more than an hour of transportation and three separate transfers.
I panic and feel guilty each time I leave the apartment and the poor dog panics.
Most of all, I miss having coffee with Vicky so terribly much; each morning it feels like my heart will break.
Don’t get me wrong; there’s much good and happiness in my life, and the darkness will pass, probably quickly. But today, I feel that I will surely lose my mind if the living room curtains aren’t hung soon.
Today, everything seems overwhelming.
I know that saying things will change for the better doesn't help....but they WILL: you'll start making friends of your new neighbors and living in Brooklyn doesn't mean you can't see your friends in Manhattan! And you will will will find a job soon.
I know all that. I also know that a lower population density, which I like, means it's less likely that I'll run into people I know when I go out. Yes, I'll get a job, but each day leaves me feeling less and less employable. And the only person I've seen so far with a reasonable travel time and easy commute was Valeria, who works near here.
Actually, friends in Brooklyn are a much bigger problem, since after Atlantic Avenue, the lines go off in different directions.
They usually do, which (I think) makes them feel that much worse when they're upon me; the difference between feeling low and feeling high just seems so . . . dramatic. And I love drama when it's performed by professionals on stage or screen, preferably with good direction, but I'm an amateur.
Deb, that’s a wonderfully practical question. Unfortunately, although I tried, I was unable to do it myself; it really requires at least a couple of inches that I don’t have. Bob has been attending to other priorities (like solutions to our lack of closets or bedroom window coverings) and with thedeath of Cardinal Dulles he’s working this weekend. I don’t know they’ll be up before next weekend.
It’s particularly unfortunate, since I have a phobia about barren, dark windows.
That's a biiiiiig move. I don't think this was much more than 10 miles!
Morgan has been hugged for you, and Hayes seems to enjoy being back in the borough of his birth. He's put on some weight, is more active, and generally acts like he owns the place.
When I moved to Ohio--away from everyone I knew--I made that jump, too. I didn't really think through how much of a community I'd built up around myself, and I missed it, desperately. While I look back and I still think that the move and my time there was a good thing, I suffered terribly for the lack of social contact.
If you can spare the energy, do what you can to find whatever social contact you can... Recognizing, of course, that you do, actually, need the times of aloneness and sadness. Moving house is one of the major life-traumas, regardless of whether it's for a good reason or bad reason.
I went from a place where I couldn't walk down the block without seeing (literally) dozens of people, to a place where I can walk several blocks without seeing a soul. It takes a little getting used to.
Now, by any normal standards, I'm hardly deprived of social contact. It's just that I'm so hyper-social.
You know, after all the stress of the move and the multiple enormous changes you've just made in your life, I think it's a very good sign that this is the first stressed-out post after a string of happy wonderful posts.
The answer to SAD: Get up early and go down to the water while it's light!
I think you're right, on both counts.
Morgan and I usually go to the park, and on a reasonably nice day, the salt marsh, before seven, and we spend at least an hour outside. The overcast conditions of the past few days contribute to my mood, I know.