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The Five of Us Are Dying (rough mix)

I've been thinking a lot lately about moving. Well, ever since Devins mom and sister moved over a thousand miles away to Rhode Island. Well, actually ever since I was a teenager. I always dreamed about moving north east, the New England area. I've lived in this city my whole life. I've had only one job ever that has lasted six and a half years. I never ever thought I would live here or have that job this long.

The problem is that there is no problem (anymore). I have a really good job. One of the top 100 jobs you can have. I get vacation time, stock options, bonuses, 401k plan, you name it. I'm friends with everyone I work with. I'm on a first name basis with most of our customers, and they all like me.

I originally wanted to move when I was younger because I hated living with my parents and not having a place of my own (an introverts worst nightmare). My brother was always getting in trouble which caused a lot of fighting between everyone in the house, on top of my parents being over-stressed from their then-recent divorce. One house was clean, but too quiet and sad, and the other house was a gloomy, gross disaster with a backdrop of deep seeded anger. These feelings resonated with me and followed me for a long time even after I moved out a few years ago.

Since I've moved out, I've lived with Devins and his parents in a huge house make of solid concrete with a neighborhood where everyone had horses or other various farm animals. Then, Devins mom and sister randomly moved to Rhode Island leaving the two of us with Devins step dad who did not know how to handle his wife being over a thousand miles away. That was a huge mess in itself. Then we found out our landlord didn't actually own the house and had been stealing our rent money, so Devin and his step dad moved into a tiny ass trailer because it was the only place they could find for cheap and on the fly, as his step dad prepared for his move.

I moved in the same day I took his step dad to the airport for his big move. We stayed in this dank, tiny moldy trailer for a year. We had two very tiny rooms (our bed took up our entire room), it had no living room, and the kitchen had one cabinet and one counter top space. We didn't even have room for a dining room table in there. Our stove was, no lie, the size of a Fisher Price toy stove. I didn't even know they came that small. We became accustom to our tiny house living, and I tried my hardest to make the best of it, looking to "How to maximize space in a tiny house" and "25 Tiniest Houses" for inspiration. But the dangers of it didn't go away with all of my decorating and accommodating. Our front door was held shut by a heavy clay pot and the soft spots in the floor due to water damage from previous owners were spreading. With a lot of begging, we were able to move into a bigger trailer for not a lot more money per month. With all the work we've put into our new place, we're now in what I would actually consider our dream home.

We now have a full kitchen with plenty of counter space and cabinets, we finally have a bathtub instead of a telephone booth size shower, and our bedroom is HUGE. There is even an extra tiny room for what I call Devins "vape lab". We painted all the walls a bright blue with a key lime green accent wall. We have wood laminate floors. We have a freaking LIVING ROOM. It's so spacious and clean. It's my safe haven.

My point in all of this is that I finally have a safe space for my tiny family, that I'm so so in love with. It's just big enough for us, and it doesn't cost a lot of money. And it's so damn cute. I don't want to move now because of that. If it were an option to take it with us (we would have to wait eight years to own it), I so would. The only thing I would miss from this place is my house (and my family of course).

I hated my job so much at one time because my old boss (who just recently was transferred) is the WORST person in the whole world. Now that he's gone, there isn't anything to hate anymore. My new boss isn't exactly my best friend but he's so, so much nicer. Of course there is the occasional horrible customer, the occasional fuck-up where I make a mistake and remind myself that this job isn't for me (as if no one else makes mistakes ever, even after being at the same job for so long).

I'm TOO comfortable. Everything is safe and secure. I will never be laid off from my job, I'm surrounded by all of my family, I have a wonderful house, and that's all anyone could ask for. It's the location that bothers me. I've always had this unfair stereotype in my head that people who stay in their hometown are losers. Therefore I feel like I'm a loser. I feel like everyone who moved away after highschool are looking down at me thinking "wow, she never left her hometown and still has the same job at a grocery store, what a loser." This feeling arose when I got into an altercation with a former elementary school friend who grew above me in terms of social status, looks, and intelligence over the years. I posted an article about how Maine was going to start making people on welfare work in some way or another to get benefits. This was at a time when I really looked down on people on welfare, not because they're poor, but because it just so happened that the worst customers I had were on food stamps, and it made me really upset that they could afford all this food for free when Devin and I were pinching pennies to eat and did not qualify for any help. Anyway, this person and several others were attacking me for posting this article and I was so embarrassed and felt so stupid and ashamed about it that I deleted my entire facebook page and started a new one a week later with my only facebook friends being my close family. This embarrassment sent me into a downward spiral of self-doubt, feelings of stupidity, questioning every belief I have and every decision I make, and closing myself off completely to the outside world with an exception to family and close friends. I can't help but think this person occasionally checks my social media accounts and judges me. I really want to say something to them along the lines of a brief apology and explanation of why I felt the way I did back then. But then the tiny rational part of me wants to believe that they forgot about the entire incident and forgot who I was completely, making my apology sound super weird. I wish I could let that whole thing rest. I've actually never talked to anyone about that and it's been festering in my mind for way too long.

When I tell people about how I feel like a loser about my life, they think I'm insane. In the eyes of someone else, I'm actually kind of successful. I will own my own house by the time I'm 30, I could retire from my current job as a millionaire in my fifties, I even have the option to move up in the company as management.

These things just don't sound incredibly appealing to me. I want to travel and see other things. I'm afraid that if I leave, something will happen to my family and I won't be here. I don't want to give up my beautiful house. Devins mom has been pressing us to move up there. She says "You don't want to be in that town your whole life" (true), "there are so many things for young people to do here" (Providence, Rhode Island. True). I love New England so much. I want to move, I want to go to school full time for wild life biology. I want to live in the snow, among mountains and big beautiful trees, and SEASONS. I want to live around historical sites.

But lets face a couple facts. New England is expensive. There are no trailer parks in Providence. A tiny gross apartment is twice what we pay here, and twice as small. My 1997 Toyota would never make it up there. We would have to live with my husbands parents until we could get our own place. I love his step dad, but he gives us a lot of grief. I love having my own place and could not transition back to living with his parents. They fight a lot and his step dad gets angry easily.

Both of my options are good and bad in their own way. I truly believe that a big major change in my life would be a good thing in the long run. What I have now is good for now, but I don't want to raise my kids here. The Florida school system is horrible. But on the other hand I would hate that my kid(s) would rarely ever see my family. If we moved to New England, I don't think Devin would ever want to come back. He misses his parents so much and I feel guilty about it. Although it was not my decision for them to move all the way up there.

What I would seriously miss the most is going to Downtown Disney in the fall. When it's cold but not freezing, and everything is decorated like Halloween, but Disney-style. Its one of my all-time favorite things to do. Can I just be a snow-bird?

I'm secretly waiting for something really bad to happen here (like our house getting hit by a hurricane or something) so I have a legitimate excuse to move far away. For now, it will just be yearly week-long trips to the north. I'm going to kind of look around and check things out when we go back up there this October. For now I'm just going to sleep on it. These thoughts have been rattling around in my brain and making my outlook on my own life really foggy. Should I stay, or should I go? I keep seeing articles like "Why you should move out of state in your twenties" and "Top 10 Biggest mistakes from moving out of state in your twenties", and I keep coming to the same conclusion that I need to just make the decision myself and stop relying on everyone elses experiences.

12:21 p.m. - 2016-08-20

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