Struggling
My husband and I have been talking about moving to Maine for nearly a year and a half now. We've watched the weather patterns, the instagram profiles and hashtags, the real estate posted online... Something about the state speaks to us born and raised Washingtonians.
I myself have never been to the east coast. The furthest East I have ever been is Idaho, laughably. But Washington... Washington is dying a slow death. Skagit County is deteriorating. Not economically, per say, but the soul is draining from it. Even the past 5 years there's been a significant change. And we want out.
Why Maine? Their largest city is the size of Marysville, one of Seattles 'suburban cities'. 90% of the state is forest. Living expenses are lower. We could buy land. There are 4 seasons, not just the 'rain season' from October to June. Did I mention there's less people?
I am afraid though. What if we hate living there? What about the move? How will we get two children, a dog, two cats and an entire shop full of tools there? How could we time buying and selling just right to avoid a rental contract? What about jobs? What about my side of the family? I'm the eldest of 9 kids. I have cousins, second cousins, grandparents, great grand parents, aunts and uncles, all in this state. Actually, many of them in this very town.
But I can't stay here. I feel like someone has a hold on my spine, and each passing year it gets tighter, cutting off the circulation to my limbs, making me feel just a little more numb then the year before. Sometimes I struggle, I kick, I grow more or make more. But when that projects finished, I feel the same once again.
Weeks ago, our son, who is 8 years old, stood outside on the sidewalk directly across the street from our house. The shop door was open, and my husband could see him clearly. Our son was trying to sell little boats he made from tin cans to passersby. A police officer stopped and asked where he lived. Then spoke to my husband. The impression she gave was that it was not ok for our son to be there, 30ft away in plain sight. Don't get me wrong, I admire law enforcement wholeheartedly. But he is 8 years old, old enough to walk to school. I suddenly felt scrutinized, like I was being watched and labeled a bad parent for giving my son some freedom and independence. After the encounter, I also am no longer comfortable with my kids riding a bike up and down the sidewalk in front of my house while I sit on the front porch or work in my garden.
Just last week the window on the passenger side of my husbands car was shattered. No sign of a break-in, just glass that was intensely cracked until he shut the door to go to work and it shattered. How? Why? We don't know.
The first week we moved in, 7 years ago, we where robbed. We had placed some things in the shop, nearly all of which where taken.
This place, it doesn't feel like home. It never has.
I myself have never been to the east coast. The furthest East I have ever been is Idaho, laughably. But Washington... Washington is dying a slow death. Skagit County is deteriorating. Not economically, per say, but the soul is draining from it. Even the past 5 years there's been a significant change. And we want out.
Why Maine? Their largest city is the size of Marysville, one of Seattles 'suburban cities'. 90% of the state is forest. Living expenses are lower. We could buy land. There are 4 seasons, not just the 'rain season' from October to June. Did I mention there's less people?
I am afraid though. What if we hate living there? What about the move? How will we get two children, a dog, two cats and an entire shop full of tools there? How could we time buying and selling just right to avoid a rental contract? What about jobs? What about my side of the family? I'm the eldest of 9 kids. I have cousins, second cousins, grandparents, great grand parents, aunts and uncles, all in this state. Actually, many of them in this very town.
But I can't stay here. I feel like someone has a hold on my spine, and each passing year it gets tighter, cutting off the circulation to my limbs, making me feel just a little more numb then the year before. Sometimes I struggle, I kick, I grow more or make more. But when that projects finished, I feel the same once again.
Weeks ago, our son, who is 8 years old, stood outside on the sidewalk directly across the street from our house. The shop door was open, and my husband could see him clearly. Our son was trying to sell little boats he made from tin cans to passersby. A police officer stopped and asked where he lived. Then spoke to my husband. The impression she gave was that it was not ok for our son to be there, 30ft away in plain sight. Don't get me wrong, I admire law enforcement wholeheartedly. But he is 8 years old, old enough to walk to school. I suddenly felt scrutinized, like I was being watched and labeled a bad parent for giving my son some freedom and independence. After the encounter, I also am no longer comfortable with my kids riding a bike up and down the sidewalk in front of my house while I sit on the front porch or work in my garden.
Just last week the window on the passenger side of my husbands car was shattered. No sign of a break-in, just glass that was intensely cracked until he shut the door to go to work and it shattered. How? Why? We don't know.
The first week we moved in, 7 years ago, we where robbed. We had placed some things in the shop, nearly all of which where taken.
This place, it doesn't feel like home. It never has.
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