I left home. I found somewhere to belong and people I belonged with. The place I grew up, was no longer home. There were places that were better. There were places I’d rather be. Dorothy was wrong. There were places no only like home, but better. This is not to say anything bad about the family I grew up with. I had went over the rainbow, and Oz was far superior to my Kansas.
I had left home, found a career, went to college. Found the love of my life. I purchased my own car. Living on my own. A certain level of independence, away from the middle of nowhere. Everything I wanted. No. Everything I needed. Then I came home. To nothing. To nowhere. A population of almost 200,000, back to a population of less than 1000. It may seem like I’m overly hard on where I grew up, but it’s not that. It wasn’t that it was bad, it’s that it wasn’t for me.
I had become a PC Technician. I had gone to college, I had worked in the field I thought I loved. Home, in the middle of nowhere, that was lost. From one crap job to the next, watching life pass me by, regretting the decisions that put be back here. Maybe that was the start of the depression for me.
There was a light in this darkness for me. It so happened that I wasn’t alone. One of my closest friends lived in range. This kept me occupied through a shitty job, playing Diablo, watching movies, just a bunch of friends hanging out and hitting the bars. Four Hundred dollar bar tabs. Even this was not enough to distract me from one glaring fact. This was not where I belonged.
There are only so many times, that I can tell myself that I hate my job, that I want to walk out and go sleep it off, until one day, you call a friend on the west coast and ask if their open invitation is still open. Within a week I began to try to get things in order, far from where I shouldn’t be, and closer to where I thought I would be.