I love it here. I love the slower pace of life. The people are friendlier and I love our home. All those things are true and very consistent.
But there's a dark side too, a reality that isn't all sunshine.
My husband is severely depressed and there's no help for him. He doesn't enjoy anything. A month ago, he told me he wasn't sure he knew how to love me. He's struggling with faith. It crushes me, all of it.
I've met a lot of wonderful people, but I feel so alone here. There's lots of reasons for that. In KC, I had my friends. I knew who I could trust, who I could call in crisis, who was good for a mid day pick me up. I also knew what was expected of me. I knew what I could say and what I should not. I knew who could speak hard truth to me and how to take things.
It took me a long time to learn all that and I was happy. Here, I don't know any of that. I have to start over. I constantly say the wrong thing and misjudge how to take things. It's so damn hard! It's like having to learn to walk all over again. And the crappy part is that the same rules don't apply because the culture and people here are completely different.
After six months, I've started to see how previous relationships are shaking out. Few have stayed strong, but I still know who is fiercely supportive. Some have slipped away and some still come in a text a month. That in itself brings another level of adapting.
Despite our 6 years of strained relationship, being away from my little brother and his family is the hardest. I would only see them 1-2 times a year max. However, the past two years, my brother and I had been rebuilding our relationship. For the first time ever, I know he loves me even though he hasn't learned how to show it. And I miss him. Everything else that causes sadness in my life is nothing compared to how badly I miss him. I am on a countdown for December 26.
My faith is not shaken through this. I may question and wrestle with where God's love can be found, but I refuse to let go of the one constant.
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