The cultural and intellectual milieu afforded here is basic and hard edged.
Your description of your home-base appears to have a lot of similarities to rural central Oregon, where I lived for far too many years of my adult life. It's agricultural, but the simplicity sounds familiar.
We recently spent about a year-and-a-half in Portland, Oregon. We lived in the Cultural District downtown and I felt like I was in heaven for a while. We had the big library, the big museum, some of the best, old architecture in the city (which was also usually big), lots of parks, and tons of great statues and street art. We left at day 55 of the George Floyd protest, party in response to my explosive internal responses to the sound of flash grenades (resulting from my trauma story), partly because me being a covid layoff and my husband's promise of another year of poor pay as a private school teacher didn't make our futures look bright, and partly because my husband chose an out-of-state school where he could get his teaching license.
For us, Portland demonstrated a lesson in wayfinding. We all tend to get extreme when we make changes. My sister was a completely different sort of parent than my mother was and when we finally got tired of cattle drives, we went the opposite direction. Granted, we did not land in New York, but we didn't have the money for that, or we might have. We were that sick of the ways of things in central Oregon. Neither my sister's intense new parenting style nor our extreme change in location was completely successful. The major swings we made to get out of the old were really a little too major to be successful in the long-run. Though honestly, my heart is in Portland, and the gravity of those protests was not lost on me, even if I can't live too close to what sounds like nightly gunfire.
Because we moved to New Mexico, my husband was able to start teaching immediately upon enrolling in a licensure program. He got the first teaching job he applied to on the day he applied, demonstrating New Mexico's incredible desperation for teachers.
We were in the thick of the pandemic when he started teaching in this tiny village near Santa Fe, so we haven't been meeting people. We're both 100% ginger and the village is over 90% Latino with a large Catholic School planted in the center, and to say that we are out of our element is a pretty big understatement. Further, because neither one of us is very good at meeting people, getting to this new cultural landscape when we were expected to stay home as much as possible means we've had very little of the New Mexico experience. It's kind of a shame, too, because what we have seen is fascinating and beautiful, but we'll probably be back in Oregon before things have settled down - if they settle down.
this is my circumstantial 'home'
By circumstantial, do you mean you got there due to circumstance or that the circumstances make are your current residential atmosphere? Do you have a location you would prefer? Do you have any plans to get there?
To choose not to study the literature describing and deconstructing such dynamics just doesn't seem an option for me, given the intensity of the times and the undeniable pressures of this environment in particular. Some of this is evidence of my CPTSD 'talking to me' so to speak, but other aspects are undeniably real if one is only sensitive enough to form a coherent narrative of the sights and sounds.
I heard a lot of this in school. And I imagine I would agree in deed were it not for my own peculiar mental twists having to do with my trauma.
School came at me from the direction you describe and my right-wing family has made every attempt to make sure that I have guns and know how to use them. Some sort of social collapse/social madness was at the heart of both. The summary version of why I don't pay much attention to literature, news, or how to clean a rifle is that I really hope that the next big trauma takes me out. I'm sure there is some psychological term for this phenomenon, but I think the word
done sums it up -- perhaps evidence of a long-term struggle with depression. My trauma history is long and complicated and I don't want to survive to see another round of recovery.
I've been told that there is something very amiss that I would not be concerned with my own survival. I understand the assessment to a degree.
In real life, however, I eat healthy and exercise daily and I work to have a good life, a healthy brain/body, etc. But I think I just feel that I have reached my limit, emotionally. I feel like one more major trauma might just destroy everything good that is left inside of me. Survive that? No thanks. Find a way to escape and thereby watch tons of other people get destroyed from afar? Nah. Honestly if things get too bad, I'll probably run to the front of the line and beg for a bullet. No, it's not normal mammal behavior, but there is nothing normal about surviving the myriad of traumas I have survived to this point, either. I don't want to "recover" again - it's taken too long, I'm tired, and I'd rather have a good life right now than worry about what is probably happening out there.
I feel a little like a Disney grasshopper saying that, but it's how I feel. I used to be a bit of a prepper, myself, with a stockpile of food, water, and supplies, but this arthritic body is only going to make it so far, anyway.
Needless to say, I don't bliss out very well or very efficiently.
I don't either. I will avoid looking at possible future scenarios in this disaster, but I've got my own list of concerns going on all the time.
Yeah, and I am sorry it took me so long to get back to this discussion. I enjoy talking about culture and can appreciate that you have a sense of humor about your current location.
Right now, standing and laying down are really the only positions I can be in long-term but I can't stand for hours on end, either. I pretend to be joking when I tell people I'm devising a strategy to mount my laptop over my bed, but that's a real consideration. Though, there may be seating options that would work better, too.
I don't know. I know I have an acute problem I haven't discovered a solution to, just yet.
Well, best of luck to you out there. It's a wild world.