I’m moving home.

Life has been, well, something these last few months.


I phased out of the temporary job I had held during my weeks of unemployment.
I interviewed for a tech position, and ended up with a offer to be a school librarian.
Which, I gratefully took, fully intending on staying until at least the end of next year.
But, instead, my battle with anxiety and panic attacks caused me to rethink.
So, in two weeks, I’ll be staring up at the ceiling of my childhood room.


I haven’t lived there for 4 years, so to say I have a lot of mixed feelings is a vast understatement. I love my parents. The emotions I’m feeling is nothing against them – I am so grateful that they are willing to let me come home for this season. I’m worried because I’ve grown up and changed in the last four years. Will moving back force me back into childhood? To face up to feelings that I thought I’d left behind for good? My friends aren’t the same, which is just the bittersweet truth. In leaving Winona Lake, I’m leaving friends that have become family, a college town that is home to me and a small group community whom I love doing life with. I’m returning to a place where I’m going to have to figure out how to make friends and find community all over again.


But, what I have to gain by moving home outweighs what I am leaving behind. I never would have uttered those words before now, but I am in a place where I am in desperate need of rest, rejuvenation and new job options.


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