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my story (kinda)

If you've ever moved you know how hard it can be. For me, I had only heard stories about moving, and experienced lots of my friends moving away. But not me. I'd lived in the same town for 13 1/2 years. The same house for 9 years. I had my circle of friends, an amazing theater group. Life was good.
When I heard all those moving stories my friends told, they sounded amazing. The friends they made, the adventures they'd had, part of me wanted to move. Rarely did the stories tell of pain. 
About 9 months ago my dad got a new job. In a new town. The new job was 5 hours away from my childhood life. From all I had ever known.

Moving wasn't like I was expected. Every time I remember how I thought moving would go I think of some song lyrics by Moriah Peters. 
"You never told me that this would be easy, but I never knew that it would be this hard..." 
Now of course I know Moriah wasn't talking about moving when she wrote Brave, but that line really seems to apply.

Moving IS hard, really hard. But some advice I wish I would have taken early on is, move on. I know that sounds hard to do, but you really should look for new friends, new opportunities. When we moved last year, I just stayed in my little shell expecting friends to find me. I knew that it took a lot of effort to get out and try to make friends. Effort I didn't want to make. 

And that's what was the beginning of some, if not all, of my depression. Selfishness. Now you might be thinking, "What is she talking about?" Well, for some time I was mad at my dad for moving ME. For making ME leave MY friends and MY life. See a pattern? I didn't care about my family or how they felt. I only cared about ME, ME, ME. How unhappy I was. How I missed MY friends.

And honestly, feeling bad for yourself doesn't put you in the best of moods.

Until almost a month ago, I was sad and angry, not being thankful for what I had here in my new home. It took my mom watching me, pushing me to go do things, then asking me questions I didn't want to answer, to figure out why after 8 months and tons of new friends later I was still depressed.

This is why...

After all that time feeling sorry for myself, I was starting to enjoy my new life.

*loud gasp*

 I know, CRAZY right?

 I was feeling guilty for liking my new house and my new friends. I was afraid of letting go. Like maybe if I let go of my old life my old friends would let go of me. I was scared. But with the help of my caring mom I found what was wrong and I'm now slowly, letting go of all that was dragging me down and boy, does it feel good! 
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