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43005804702a305e1e8f2c4ff0f0f415I find myself still looking for that silence.  I spent the day almost completely alone and while there was comfort in the silence, there was also the missing ingredient of familiarity.  There is no place to go in my life to find the same, the knowledge of something old and worn.  There is no place to go where my mind can find the solace it needs to continue to heal.

It is horribly cold in this world I am now living.  While there is no snow or sleet on the ground, the bitterness of even a sunny day takes some getting used to.  I am not a person who likes the cold; I have been known to wear a sweater in the Caribbean.

I am trying to remind myself that there are other ways to find warmth.  Not the traditional fire or heating unit, but rather the laughter of my children, the excitement they feel in each new thing, and the love of my faithful husband. This or course, warms my heart but my toes still feel like they are about the fall off.

I know that all of this change is simply a state of mind.  I know that I can make the best of it, or I can wallow in some preconceived misery in the hopes of never believing that happiness is attainable. I know that this new change, this move, will only be successful when I deem that it is so; and that all the searching and all the complaining won’t change the fact that there is in fact, change.

And it isn’t just change for myself.  My children are feeling it completely.  They don’t have their beds set up in the way that will be solid and warm; instead it is a movable object that seems to be only temporary.  My children, my beautiful children, are having to enter new schools where the ideal of safety has to be once again found.  Where there was once places to play and laugh with neighbors, there are now cars and small, hilly yards without the room to even throw a ball.

My husband, having to live the nightmare of every married man (living with his mother-in-law) is without his space.  He has to find entertainment while keeping an eye of his three year old, while his insane wife has another meltdown.  He has to find a job, find directions, and find a favorite pizza joint.  He is in a world he has visited a total of one time; and he has to do it with a quietness that must be hard to maintain.

I acknowledge that change is hard; it is stressful for all of us.  And I freely acknowledge that it is all temporary.  One day what seems like new, will be old. What seems to be fluctuating, will seem constant.  We will find our way, because that is what this family is made of.  And we will succeed simply because there is no choice.

But I am not good in limbo.  I am not good those moments before safety, before comfort is established.  I am not good when the world is turning faster than I am used to; I get too seasick for it all.  I suppose at heart I am a creature that demands routine.  I am not a person that likes to explore anything real, but rather limit my visitations to the voices and images in my head.

I suppose on one hand it is a little amazing who I am, and what I am learning about myself.  I like to fly, swim, run, fight, and dance in my mind; in my life I value something so different.  I like meeting new people, as long as the voices are completely ensconced in my own head. I like being that which I don’t want to be in real life, I like to learn that which I have no interest in from others, and I like to feel what I can not stand in reality.

I suppose most people can understand why this is so; the obvious answer is that it is safe in my own mind. Despite the dangerous disease I carry and fight on a daily basis, I still have a brain that can give me all the change I need without the reality of its destruction. My brain can comfort me, where the cold and bitter world lacks the means.

I often explored the idea of a safe haven, and the fact that it does not exist in another person’s arms, or even their heart; but only within our own mind.  This week, with all this change, I think my experiment shows I know exactly what I am talking about.

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