I realized many things today after trying to write this for a long while. Weeks upon weeks!
The post will be at least four parts! Here’s part one
I miss New York. Of course I do. It’s where my parents were born, lived their lives and are buried. It’s where I met every man I really loved (all three,) and most of my friends. It’s the only place I will ever know with every fiber of my body.
But I was miserable my last decade, in New York, for various reasons. I’m not miserable anymore. I probably wouldn’t be had I stayed but I probably wouldn’t be this relaxed. (For me–queen of anxiety and panic.)
I don’t know how I ended up here. Oh I know the story. The condensed one I tell; the longer one I tell good friends; and the long one I tell my most loved family and family of friends.
I was having a crisis of faith. Not that kind of faith. Many people I care about are people of true faith and I hope they know how much I admire them; I’m so glad they never talk about it to me. Maybe someday.
No the faith I’m talking about is faith in me. All my life——even when I was an awkward, shy––seeming, scared, quiet teenager——I had believed in me.
One day I was going to burst upon the scene and show that behind the package was a talented awesome person. I know——many of you believed in that person too; and I can’t thank you enough. I know I appeared to be that person in my late teens through 50.
But in June, 2007, I got the nonverbal learning disorder diagnosis (NLD)——look it up; this post is and isn’t about it and I sure don’t feel like talking about it. You can even read my Psychology Today blog on it. I can’t thank PT enough for giving me a chance.
Something happened to me that June. I tried understanding this very strange disorder, and you know what? I understood more then than I did after I began researching it.
I only write my story and my beliefs because there’s no writing besides my own, and some people I give space to in my PT blog, that I can wrap my finger around and say “yes, that is me. That’s not said as bragging but in sadness for I would like there to be much writing.
My friends have a townhouse two blocks from the ocean in North Myrtle Beach––I call it NMB. I spent three weeks there. I’m an ocean front hotel, fancy motel kind of person so this was different.
I loved it! It poured the first two days. I cuddled on the huge couch and listened to local radio. They played shag music which is Southern beach music with a blues, soul and R&B tinge. There’s almost nothing I love more than good music and this was the ultimate summer music. I had never let myself just chill like that. It was incredible.
On the third day the sun came out. It was in the 90’s as I set out for the beach and to explore. The pastel buildings looked faded as they would in a great indie noir movie. It was amazing.
In the next three weeks I got to know the town. Main Street, sort of funky with some of the best clubs anywhere. McClean Park, beautiful and pristine then. So pristine I just assumed you could swim in the lake. I was very hot. Fortunately I didn’t try that out.
NMB has four distinct sections and I got to know them all. They were each like a different towns with totally different ambiences as originally they had been separate towns. I walked for hours a day. People were friendly and I would talk to many.
As I don’t drive the first person I became friendly with was Mike the cab company owner.
I went back to New York and decided to return in September.
End of Part Two