Thursday, January 26, 2012


I decided to take this week away from Illinois and spend it with my parents in Beloit, WI; my hometown. I've hung out with both of my sisters and did just a little drinking (enough to forget that I'm at a bar in Beloit!). I've talked with both my parents about where they're at, beyond what I usually hear over our telephone conversions.

After a lot of red tape, my driver's license was finally "reinstated!" That meant I could drive home from the DMV; that's about all the driving I've done back home (I'm not really cleared for the highway).

A couple days ago, my Dad let me use his car to grab some lunch and I did a little re-exploring of Beloit. Granted, it's not much, but this little city has scratched many permanent marks in my brain. As I drive by a park or a building or remember the way a specific road winds and bumps. I've been known to be sentimental, and a lot of memories were good but not all. The negative events that have happened here taught me lessons that I've used for good but they've hurt just as much as they've taught.

I've had two small seizures here, so far. Probably just getting used to the new territory. We have a kitten and she is kind of the same way (I know this sounds crazy). She'll know things are different and not eat, drink or try to avoid making real contact with us. Communication doesn't always have to be verbal, in fact it might damn well be better to use mental and physical language than words.

A lot of people feel this way, but you never quite feel rested or completely relaxed when taken out of the little hole you've dug for yourself. I'm not sleeping well or really thinking about the problems at home in Illinois. Sure, I check my email and send out resumes but there isn't that same sense of urgency or fear; I'm just really lonely. Even though my parents have been home 30% of the week, I just feel drained of human contact. I'm out of my element in Beloit; life isn't exactly slower, just less condensed. Hell, there are unmarked road crossings in my parent's neighborhood; a driver is just supposed to know to slow down and yield... a death trap in Chicago.

We're trying to move back to Milwaukee; my second home and Sara's first. There, it seems to be a good balance of here (Beloit) and Chicago. Sure, I'll be further away from my doctors, so I'll have to find a closer emergency type hospital with ties to Northwestern, but now that things are looking better for us medically, it's a no-brainer.

Today, I just felt like writing. I'd write everyday if I could but then I wouldn't have time to really reflect on what and who is around me. Like I've said before, once a word is spoken you can't take it back but when a word is written, there's always delete.