I’m home in New Jersey, folks. I left Georgia last week. I haven’t write anything for ages because every time I sat down and typed something out, it looked like it was dribbled by a six-year-old.
I started writing this post many times, in many different ways, and disliked them all. Or, they just puttered out mid-paragraph and refused to grow any more. So this time, I decided just to throw the facts down without any primping.
The simplest way to explain it is that I was unhappy (is “unhappy” ever simple though?). Living in Georgia made me deeply unhappy.
Reason #1: Gender stuff.
During my first week in Georgia, I was solicited as a prostitute. I laughed it off. But after many months of bad interactions with men, I stopped laughing. And then I stopped smiling. And then I dyed my hair brown and threw out my make-up. And stopped going out. And started crying a lot, and disliking myself, and disliking men, and reading a lot of young adult fiction.
Work was fine, but work alone can’t keep me sane or happy. And I can’t do my work very well when I’m feeling neither sane nor happy. So, I decided to leave.
I lived in Georgia for 13 months and, of course, I left with some good memories. You can browse through my blog posts to see them. But the bad memories stick out from the rest like the high spikes on a heart monitor line.
Returning to the States has been like waking up from a long, strange dream. Trying to recall memories of the past year feels very much like reaching back into that dream in the minutes right after waking: I’m grabbing handfuls of fog. One memory I am confident of is the feeling of isolation.
But I’ve settled very quickly and comfortably back into American life. I’m thinking very seriously about antioxidants and omega 3’s, laughing at Woody’s chalkboard drawings on Around the Horn, watching commercials for frozen yogurt body wash (really, what the hell?), and catching up on which of my childhood friends is having the next baby. I’m sleeping ten hours a night and taking my vitamins and starting to run again. But my memories and feelings are still jumbled and foggy, like that old dream.
Overall, I’m ok. No need to call in the white coats. I am shaken, and sad… but I think my new hair looks pretty cute, so not all is lost.
I will be writing more to catch you up on the long stretches of un-blogged time over the past year, and I’m hoping this will help me sort out my thoughts and memories of Georgia. If I could submit a request to whomever might be reading this post, I’d ask you to send me some happy thoughts. Please?