As I mentioned in my last post, Joe and I recently went to Asheville to spend the weekend together before he leaves for another deployment. Just in time for his birthday, our anniversary, and Christmas. If you’re going to tell me it’s part of the job, or it could be worse, trust me, I know. It still sucks.
It’s always nice to leave the constant stress of life in a military town, but I was especially excited to go to a place that is know for its art and artists. I only hoped it wouldn’t distract me from my limited time with him (but, in my defense, he did pick the location).
The five-hour drive didn’t leave us much time Friday night, but we spent Saturday checking out local studios and galleries, did glass-blowing together, and had a nice dinner out. Sunday we did some shopping, drove the Blue Ridge Parkway to take pictures, and then settled into our hotel room for pizza and Netflix. Monday we were going to see Lookout Mountain but we were tired and decided to head home.
I’m not sure if I was more distracted by all the fabulous art and beautiful scenery and strangers actually being nice, or the crushing realization that I probably wouldn’t be happy again for what seemed like a really long time.
Despite my initial optimism about Fayetteville, I’ve spent four years here and I still struggle to find people I connect with or things I enjoy. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband, and I deal with a lot of things to be with him. But to be stuck here while he’s halfway around the world? Don’t even judge me for hating my life.
I know there are people who care, but living with depression is a little bit like being stuck at the bottom of a deep dark hole. It takes a rare kind of person to reach into that hole and try to understand enough to help. Most people, even with good intentions, will stand at the top trying to tell you how to get out, which only makes you feel worse because you can’t.
So I had the brilliant idea of moving to Asheville while he’s gone, taking a break from our busy life, and pursuing my art among other artists. Because it’s one thing that really helps me, but sometimes it makes me feel like an outcast.
Not sure if I can actually pull it off though. Things are a little complicated financially, with us owning a house in Fayetteville, Joe getting out of the Army soon, and both of us running businesses that are still getting off the ground (unlike my superhuman husband, I don’t think I could handle a “real” job at the same time. And we need to be smart and pay off some debts while we can).
Also, I realize changing my location won’t change everything in my life. But maybe all I need is a chance to do my own thing. I’ve never been on my own. I’ve been told I’m the kinda girl who knows who she is, but life is hard and maybe sometimes it makes me forget. Does that make any sense? I just hope the friends I do have will understand and be there when I get back.
So I’ve started a page {here} on GoFundMe where you can support my trip. Don’t feel obligated, I know everyone has their own life, stresses, and financial burdens. But if you’d like to support my art and help me deal with another deployment, that would be awesome. Or shop my Etsy {here} so at least I’m earning it!
If not, hopefully I can find a way – to go, or to be content where I am.