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Pick it all up, pack it, move. Repeat.

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pamcoco

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It’s groundhog day and I’m wondering if others experienced something similar?

My life within ptsd took on a temporariness seemingly beyond my control.

At first I resisted pulling up roots in spite of significant financial and relational problems. But, eventually it felt good to let go and allow a path to emerge from the rubble.

I settled in the Sierras for several years then moved to central Oregon, then back to Los Angeles for a year until moving to Northern Oregon where I now live. None of the moves were planned, they evolved from upheaval and were just a reaction of sorts.

Now, I am tired. Weary from starting over, while once again am forced to relocate.

I realize the chaos is within me, but lack clarity about it.

Is it simply a fear of settling, to once again have the rug pulled out? Or is it that persistent apathy, a familiar companion of my disassociated self?

I appreciate any insight.

Thank you.
 
@pamcoco I wish I had some words of wisdom as to why the constant moves, I would like to say my frequent moves have all been the result of things in my life that felt out of my control. But like you I am beginning to wonder if that is true. I am in the process of my 7th move since 2006, not a great track record for stability. I have moved from Michigan to Kansas, to another area in Kansas, back to Michigan, to another community in Michigan, to another location in the same community, to Florida and now back to Michigan via a much longer than anticipated stop back in Kansas. I am at a point where I am beginning to question whether the moves have actually been necessary or just more of my distorted thinking as no matter where I live within a year or two I begin feeling uncomfortable, ancy to move start over. The closest to feeling comfortable and seriously considering a long term stay I screwed up this summer because I listened to everyone else but myself and gave up a job that could have been an amazing long term position and now I am dealing with being both homeless and employed in a job I hate.

What I am trying to say is that I understand your confusion but, unfortunately I don't have any answers just support.
 
The closest to feeling comfortable and seriously considering a long term stay I screwed up this summer because I listened to everyone else but myself and gave up a job that could have been an amazing long term position and now I am dealing with being both homeless and employed in a job I hate.

I really relate to the listening to others, only to end up in a worse position. I am sorry and I feel you. Your post reached me today and that is no easy task. I am grateful.

It is in my listening to others, rather than making a definitive solo decision that has displaced me again and again. Before the assaults I never would have handed my life over in such a way. But this is where feeling absolutely nothing has suspended a memory of home in a vast void. Surely it isn't here, or there...

It is the creeping smell of dinner cooking from the neighbors that abruptly intrudes on my nowhere-land. Sometimes it's anger, sometimes it's overwhelming sadness but the smell that I am not at home brings me to my knees.

As I write this, I am remembering the obvious - that 2 of the 3 unrelated assaults of 2009 were in my home, After the third I laid alone in bed for four days waiting to muster the strength to rise.

No wonder I don't want to be 'home'.
 
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