Yep. Me too. Even to Europe once for a few years with a backpack and a box of books (and rebuilt my entire material life from scratch when I got there). With a toddler. I did fine, though, but there's no way on earth I could successfully do that now. This was ten years ago. I was rarin' to go back then and adventurous as hell and had no idea what depression was, per se. My depression at that time manifested as bad anxiety which manifested as being really high strung and type A. I did often sleep a lot (I was also developing that thyroid issue so many bipolars also seem to have) and did get depressed, but I just saw it as feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. I worked two jobs, went to school full time, and was a full time single mom. But I loved it and I don't how how the hell I did it, looking back. It was the major winding up before the fall. And oh god how I fell. But yeah...oh yeah oh yeah.

So many of my moves have been impulsive and just because I needed new scenery, to just get away. Once I even moved to the deep deep south. No offense to south, but I hated it there. Always have. I'm a northern girl with northern sensibilities and a very northern and opinionated way of expressing myself (which did NOT go over well with anyone, but I don't seem to have that issue here at home). I have no CLUE what possessed me to go there. It just seemed like fun one day. And I was tired of my situation that seemed like such a weight maybe? (I haven't really given it much thought until now. Had anyone asked me why yesterday I would have shrugged my shoulders and just said I loved traveling and moving, which I do...but now I like traveling, not moving.) And when I got there, for a few weeks I was again flying high and having fun (all hypomania back then, no true mania), seeing new things and places, traveling, being stimulated with newness, and then it set in...what the hell was I doing there...

I don't do that anymore. I've put down roots and I'm home again, back where I started. When I got here I actually hugged a tree, kissed the ground, and ran into the ocean and cried. With utter joy. I will never leave again, but yep, this illness has taken me all over the world. It's been some fun. And some hell.

P.S. I actually still do the moving thing, but in a different way. I move all the furniture in the house for the same effect on a fairly regular basis. I know that's why I do it and I have to do it...I need the change, the new way of seeing things. It's essential for me. But I also know that it's driven by bipolar.