print

The Next Place

MEMOIR PROJECT ROUGH DRAFT

It is also good to point out, Unit 23 marked the beginning of hope in change. The beginning of a pattern that the next place would be better. The next place would rescue me from my current state of dismality. That the next place would change things, whatever those things may be. But most of all, eventually, that the next place would rescue me and shelter me from despair, never to return again. I am 36. I have lived in 60 or more houses or apartments. I have lived in 10 different states. I have never lived in one address for more that 3 years straight. And I have lived with false hope nearly all my life. I’ve discovered moving only makes it worse. If you want rescued, stand still. Focus. And embrace the painful truth without hope of rescue from anyone but yourself. Face the painful truth without running when the pain turns the mind to darkness. Face the painful truth and embrace its poison. Let is pass, then heal. Running. Moving. They are the equivalent of a shot of opium. A rush of elation at the moment of the fix and newness to numb the pain, but the drug of moving wears off within a year. And within two years, is completely ineffective. And only another move will bring back the euphoric hope of change for the better. The euphoria of newness. And the bittersweet cup of parting with friends and places, that too, can become a delicious elixir, and with powerful addictive qualities.

END
© 2006 Christian Cloud Abraham

Posted on July 23, 2006 in
Emotion: Subjection, Type: Creative Nonfiction