Has anyone here heard of the Crab Bucket Syndrome?

Even when I was a child, we were always bouncing here and there. It wasn't because of military or any other respectable job, but because of multiple divorces and remarriages (let's move to another state so we can pretend for the neighbors that this is the same daddy you've had all along, and nobody will know the difference) or because there were unpaid bills. (let's move to another state, but you can't tell your friends here that we're moving, or the bill collectors will find us.)

Seven years ago, I escaped the bucket. When we'd moved all over the place before, it was largely the South or the Midwest. It never entered my mind to try the Pacific Northwest, but I met a man online, and he turned out to be my soulmate, and we got married. I've been living here ever since. It has been so peaceful and tranquil. For the first time, I'm living in a house we own, rather than renting month to month and having to get out if we can't cough up the money on time. I am still disabled, but I no longer need the government check. He has a steady career and isn't jumping from one minimum wage job to another with big gaps of unemployment in between. When I look out the window, I don't see garbage or graffiti or junked cars or broken down appliances. There are no constant police sirens through the night.

At first the crabs back in the South didn't think anything of it. I'd left before, but I had always come back when they promised to be more considerate of me. This time I didn't.

So when they saw that my life really had improved greatly, and I really had done the right thing by making this move, they got the idea that there was something about the Pacific Northwest that's better than where they were. It was all about just finding the right place to live. So, one by one, they all started following me out here. "Hey, crabs, she actually is happy and she's not coming back this time, so let's go out there where she is.... don't forget to bring the bucket!"

Well, guess what? No matter where you live, if you still have the same lifestyle, you're still going to have the same problems. I came out here to get away from the fighting and the drugs and all that other stuff. They don't seem to know it's chaos. They'll say, "Well, this is what family is all about. Families get loud. Families fight. They yell and scream and cuss and call each other names. They throw things at each other and slam doors and break things. As long as they kiss and make up in the end, everything's fine. We just have to love each other through it."

I'm all for "loving each other through it" if there IS a "through it." But this family doesn't get "through it." This family stays "in it." They think happiness and peace and enjoyment are just the tiny gasps of air you can manage to squeeze in before the next wave washes over you. Well, I've had enough distance between us in the meantime to know, it doesn't have to be that way. Let them gossip all they want about how my husband is isolating me (he isn't) and about how we have so much more than they do, but we won't share. The past two days have been nothing but drama and tension, and I'm having that old knot in my stomach feelings again. I am not going to live that way anymore. Get away from me with that crab bucket. I refuse to jump back in it.