When I moved away from home in the Conservative South West after graduating from college, I moved directly to Manhattan. I moved away from friends and family. I moved away from the familiar and into another world. I had a buddy who moved directly to Los Angeles. Both of us had a hard time adjusting. We called this time The Great Sunburn: no matter what you did or how much momentary relief you found, you were constantly uncomfortable. Like having an all-over sunburn, there's nothing you can really do except feel pain, feel discomfort, and wait for it to end.
I have moved back home now, after many years of being away. I was an actor. Now I work for the government shuffling papers for people with diseases. I was single. Now, I'm married with two kids. I used to smoke all the time, more than 2 packs a day, as I recall. I haven't smoked a cigarette in over 5 years. I used to drink almost every night. I'm lucky to get a drink every month now. I used to be alone. Now I'm in love. I used to not worry about anybody else. Now, I have 3 other lives that are dependent on what I do.
Today as I grumpily stared at my computer screen, feeling my body aching from something I did over the weekend, I realized that I was feeling kinda like I did during The Great Sunburn. I'm out of my element, not around what was comfortable for so long.
When I moved back home, I had a plan to make money, live in my father's house, and pay off my student loan debt. I would become a Physician's Assistant, pay off the loan in 5 years, and then move someplace to return to my acting career. My first day back, I read an email from my high school sweetheart who, I thought, had left my life 17 years ago. She was back, and I wasn't going to let her go a second time. And just like that, my plan changed. A year later, I'm a husband and a step-father, trying to find a job that I've never done before. Trying to be accepted into a world I've never been a part of. Trying to support a family. I barely supported myself before and now I'm thinking about the livelihood of 3 other people. I'm trying to spend time with my wife, my boys, both individually and together, work overtime so that we have enough money to live and pay our lawyers, deal with an abusive ex-husband and several very abusive years and court trials. My wife and I are really making a go at making her art workshops a viable business, and it's working well, but that's another thing I'm dealing with. My brother and sister want my time and energy, which is another thing.
Sometimes, I get to have a beer. I think that's about all that's left of me from my former life.
This isn't quite the same as The Great Sunburn. The past three nights have been wonderful for me. My wife and I pulled out the sleeper sofa and slept in our rumpus room, as it has an air conditioner and we could actually snuggle. It's amazing how much that means and how far that goes in terms of making me feel good, rested, and normal. Snuggling with my wife is home, and when it gets too hot for that, it's like I lose my home. So there are times when I'm comfortable. This is like The Great Sunburn in that I don't know what else to do by wait for... I'm not sure what. I've always had a plan. Now, I have no plan. No vision of my future other than my wife. Tomorrow we may stop delivering papers, stop the art classes, stop the government work, stop all that we're doing and do something else. But we'll do it together, I'm certain. But it's hard to know what to do while I'm uncertain about what to do. It's like I'm floating on a life raft, my former life has crashed and sunk into the ocean, never to been seen again. My future isn't in sight yet. And until I make it to that Future Island, I just gotta stay alive. This time, now, is The Great Life Raft. If I gotta be stuck on a life raft, I'm glad I'm there with my wife. I'd like us to find that Future Island now, though, so I can start doing whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. Whatever it is that will allow me to relax.
I don't know have a plan now, and I'm not sure how to make one. Maybe my plan is that it's going to take more time than I thought.
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