Fashioning My Cyber Microcosm: Finding The Self

The loss of my beloved little friend has certainly shook me to my core; it was a rather cold reminder of everything I left behind to start my new life.

All around, people are perking up to the sound of birds that jubilate outside their windows as they proclaim the dawning of spring.

I picture the trees back at my mother's home already beginning to throw down their pods of seeds; littering the snowy front lawn with what look like fuzzy red caterpillars. The air changing, shifting with pockets of warm air, reminding the cold denizens of Calgary that green life will begin emerging from its long slumber any day now.

For me, the months ahead will mark a full year away from my family, and anything that bared any familiarity to me. I hear the echo's of those whom flippantly remarked "just get over it", and I wonder how anyone who has ever felt that level of disconnection could be so uncompassionate.

My mother often shares her wisdom, and of what it means to be so far from the things that matter. Not a day goes by when she didn't long to return "home", but finding it hard emotionally; for she has been disconnected from her roots for so many years that she feels she no longer belongs "back home". If she went back, things would not be the same; it would not be "home".

When I look out my window and see that not a single change has occurred, I can't help but wonder if perhaps I am heading towards that same path; if perhaps I was too eager to start a new life that is so far away and so different than I am accustomed to.

Funny enough, it is the lack of change that has been weighing so heavily on my mind once the half year mark passed us by. I hoped that by this time, I would have at the very least began setting up the new foundations towards my goals, not just of my husband's. I have managed for long to keep the blues at bay despite knowing there is nothing I could currently do to change anything.
But lately I sense a change within myself; one that has me greatly concerned, one I didn't heed from my mother in my zeal to move.

A year sounds like such a minute amount of time, but change within a person occurs so rapidly that we are left but dazed by the events.

Would I even feel like I belong anymore when I visit home, despite the hastiness of these supposed changes?

After one entire year dwelling here, I still feel like a mere stranger taking up residence. I often call it home away from home, but my heart struggles to take shelter-- and much to my dismay, is solidifying my despondency.

I often went a few weeks on end with only the computer/my blog as a substitute for genuine contact and expression, and though I have my husband, he does not share my enthusiasm for the little things I enjoy conversing and partaking in. I have to constantly remind myself that it's quite esoteric, especially in these parts.

But I feel as though parts of myself are fading, and I am left frantically grasping at straws.