I Woke Up Sad
- 07
- 23
- 10
This morning, I woke up sad.
For several minutes, the inaugural minutes of this July day, I didn’t know why I felt this way. I looked around me for clues. My legs were tangled in powder soft sheets. The door to the bathroom was ajar; through the opening I heard the rumble of Husband’s shower. Out the window, tree branches swayed, flirting with the sun, cocky even at this early hour. A muffled melody came from the corridor; the sweet chirping of little girls. And, at all of this, these small things that are so big to me, these mundane morsels of the everyday, I did smile. But that smile faded too quickly. And I was left there, alone in my bed, swaddled in sadness once more.
But like a good existential trouper, I sat up, reaching for my glasses on the bedside, eager to see. Eager to see more clearly the lines of my life, my good life. Eager to see more clearly the lines of my melancholy. Because there is one thing worse than sadness: unexplained sadness.
I paused on the edge of our tall bed, my feet dangling freely like that of a little child. I continued to listen. The sounds changed. Husband turned off the spray of water. My girls started calling for us. And it hit me. Suddenly and swiftly. I am sad because we are moving. Because one week from today, our life will be in boxes and crates. Seven measly days into the future, my family will migrate.
And I know this is exciting. That it is a distinct privilege that we have been able to dream and design, brainstorm and build, and pick wild purple papers. I know. And I know that it is a matter of time before we are settled there, before the new place is home.
But for now. For now, this is home. This is our place. This is the place where I have spent seven-plus years, stumbling and evolving. I arrived here a young girl, a student of life and law, confident and confused. I will leave here a different breed. A wife and mother and wordsmith, a student of love and loss and longing, ever confident and ever confused. Husband proposed here. Our babies were raised here. Dad knew this place. I wrote my first book here (and at Starbucks). I threw killer parties here. A lot of good things happened here. A lot.
In the kitchen this morning, as we were pouring our coffees, I hugged Husband. Like always. But this time I lingered, not letting go. “I’m sad that we’re moving,” I said.
And he hugged me fiercely. “I know, but we are moving in the right direction.”
With these words, something lifted in me. Lightened. A smile settled. And, this time, it didn’t fade.
“Thank you,” I said. To my man. The man who moves me every day. Who will move with me next week.
And then I felt a rush, a tricky emotional tide. Of sadness, yes. The sweet kind. Of happiness, in muted and magical tones. Of excitement, building. Of change, scary and sublime. Of relief, that I can be honest, that I can be sad, that I can say what I’m feeling. To my guy. To you.
With my cup of coffee and my computer, I went to the couch. The couch that will be soon hoisted by strong strangers into a big truck. I did what I so often do when I’m a bit lost. I looked for words. Words about change. And I found something that made me smile.
“There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction”
Winston Churchill
This made me smile because Churchill and my man said the very same thing. I told Husband. You are a very smart man, I insisted. And I kept smiling.
But behind that smile, this smile, the complex sadness lingers and asks. What is the right direction? Is there such thing? How do we find what is right? What if we are not as happy in our bigger home with the high ceilings and crystal door knobs and fancy wallpapers?
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- Do you ever experience unexplained sadness? How do you cope?
- When you approach big change in your life, are you more confident (a la Husband and Churchill) or confused (like I am)?
- How have you handled the moves in your life? Has it been hard for you to leave behind the space, the memories, the years?
- In life, do you think there is such thing as the “right direction”? Or do you think there are just directions, paths, this way and that, and we tell ourselves they are “right” to feel better about our choices?
- Am I a spoiled brat (indeed likely) for not being 110% ecstatic about moving into our lovely new place?
{Shameless self-promo. Because I want a big, bad writing career and rumor has it that sales matter 
}
I was so surprised, when we moved from our old house to our current one, to find how sad I was. It was a good move, and we were excited about it. We’d never planned on staying in our old place permanently (even though the move happened more quickly than anticipated). I’d never really felt like that house was a “home.” Yet still …
Our landlords had allowed us to paint the walls whatever colors we wanted. I stood in my beautiful blue-and-white kitchen, where I’d made so many meals for so many friends, where my “little sister” and I had laughed together as we prepared food, where I’d sat at the tiny table and sipped my tea while staring at the neighbor’s house right next door, and I mourned.
I stood in the room that had been the master bedroom until the baby was born, and then was transformed into a beautiful woodland nursery, and I cried. This was the home we’d returned to after she was born, the room where we’d rocked and walked and cuddled her from the moment we were released from the hospital. The stencils on the walls, the bees and dragonflies and butterflies, has all been placed by me exactly where I thought they’d bring the most fun to a little girl growing up, discovering some of them “hiding” in unexpected spots.
We are happy here, and this house is gaining its own share of memories that will make it a wrench to leave, but you never really let go of the places you’ve been. And that’s okay, so long as you don’t hold so tightly to what was that you miss the joys of what is, and what is still to come.
Unexplained sadness? Um, yes. As you know, this is a current that floats through my life with alarming regularity and frustrating randomness.
I cope by writing about it. By talking to certain people about it. And, more and more, by simply waiting it out. I am learning to trust that it passes. And that in its wake, sometimes, the happiness is even more wonderful.
xo
It sounds like your sadness was very justifiable, actually.
But there are some days that I wake up sad. Sad at the unfairness that I have to spend another nine hours of my life away from the man I love. Sad at the unfairness that I have to put on stiff and binding work clothes and sit at a computer all day, not writing stories for all to read. Sad that this is the way it will remain, for many months or even years to come. What a waste of time.
Of course, it’s not truly a waste of time. I go to work and earn my pay, I talk to the most wonderful coworkers ever to breathe. Then the day comes to an end and I’m back in the arms of the man I love. I’m back in my black yoga pants and soft cotton t-shirt. I’m back in my oversized overstuffed armchair with my laptop and a glass of wine. Life is not so sad, after all.
All change is hard; even good change. We have all sorts of emotional ties to places, just as we do to people and experience. At some level it just seems like a physical structure, but because we attach meaning to that structure it becomes more.
Your new home will come to hold just as much meaning as your current home. It will be the home where your girls start school; where Baby #3 (?) comes home; where prom photos are taken; and where graduation gowns are donned. However, those thing haven’t happened yet and it’s the new home that feels merely like a structure. But hang in there and your good life will fill those walls just as it has filled these walls.
Your husband is wise. ‘In the right direction’ was the perfect thing to say, I think. Change is inevitable; I guess all we can control is WHAT change we invite and who we change WITH. Good luck with the move!
I woke up sad the other day, so I can really relate. I am not sure where the sadness came from but there are lots of changes in the near future. My daughter is leaving for university and we live far away from the school of her choice. She is her sister’s best friend and the change is going to be a tough one for all of us. My son is home for the summer but will also be heading down south for school in a matter of weeks (I live in the Arctic). It’s been such a joy being mostly together this summer. My Husband is away for his field work even farther north in the High Arctic for a month so he’s not here to share one of our last summers together as the kids continue to move out of our physical lives.
And we’re going to be moving away from this unbelievably beautiful place where we’ve lived for the last eleven years. I am reluctant to go. The landscape here speaks to me deeply as a writer. 2 books and my first poem were written and published while I’ve been here. And the odds of coming back here to visit are minuscule because the cost of flying here is exorbitant. But my husband is determined to leave. He’s had enough. And so we’ll go.
On to the next place. And I will have to begin again.
There are days in my life when I wake up inexplicably sad. Those days become long. But, what I have learned through my own personal experience is that human beings had the most remarkable ability to adapt and to embrace change no matter how extreme.
Good luck with your move.
I don’t know if there are right directions. As the Frost poem wisely says “…but way leads on to way and I doubted if I should ever come back.” That’s the problem, that’s the scary part, that so often in life there is no right direction. Often when we think we’ve made a mistake, or wrong choice, new and wonderful possibilities open up that never would have happened if we had chosen the “right direction.” And so we are left to just muddle through…going with our gut and hoping it all works out. That’s the adventure in life…what makes it bearable is having family and friends by your side to let you know that no matter what happens, it’s all going to be ok.
I went through the same thing just we when we put our house on the market. I can’t imagine how I will feel when we finally sell it.
Change is hard no matter what. Even if it’s something you really want and worked hard for. There’s always an element of the unknown.
Moving is hard, even when the next place is what you want so badly! I remember packing up and leaving NYC. I was so beyond ready to move back home but NYC was where I really became an adult and I had made so many great friends and memories there. It is just bittersweet. But once you become settled in your new home you will realize that it was the right thing.
All transitions — assuming they feel right, because they can be sudden, terrible and just plain bad, too — are bittersweet. Something you love is lost in exchange for something you will hopefully love more, or at least love equally but in a different way. I feel that all the time watching my baby girl grow up. I want to stay “stop! pause!” because she is growing so fast, but on the other hand it is amazing and fun to see who she is becoming.
It is healthy that you are sad, that you are grieving the loss of leaving the home you love so much. Better to feel it than to bury it and have it haunt you later. You will love your new place; it will be home to you, sooner than you think I bet! I loved the previous comment about prom pictures being taken there. Before you know it you’ll have little girl soccer cleats littering the hallway and maybe a bassinet in the living room…
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Change is hard. I am like you- it leaves me feeling sad and confused. I am even worse because not only does moving make me sad but I get a little sad even when I leave hotel rooms sometimes- because even those rooms carry a lot of memories from a short stay. Take pictures of everything (which you obviously already have) and just allow yourself to be sad. Because soon, you won’t feel sad anymore, you are going to feel stressed- moving also really stresses me out! Such a fun combination!!!
Oh I couldn’t relate more. We move in two days, and it’s a big one–700+ miles away. Knowing we are moving–in the right direction–is what keeps me going through this month of single parenting & my first solo interstate move. We are downsizing our space and our stuff to make room for bigger dreams, and while I believe this is what we should do (to my very core!), I am admittedly struggling with having to part with the comforts of my dream house. In the meantime, I soldier on, alternating between trips to Goodwill and responding to buyers on craigslist.
Aidan,
These are natural feelings. I felt the same way when I left my home state of almost thirty years and moved to Arizona. There are things that you leave behind that cause you sadness, although you are anticipating a good change – I understand that.
As far as unexplained sadness is concerned, I do feel that as well. I try and write what I am feeling, read it and determine if there is something I can do about it. The actual writing it out helps relieve some of what I am feeling.
I’ve always loved change. I haven’t moved house that much – but was always the one to be excited about starting a new school, when others were sad to be leaving the previous place. Now I have a house that I don’t think we’ll ever move from, and I confess, it’s a strange feeling.
When I can easily answer I’m where I want to be in life (not talking physical location) I figure every direction I went leading up to this moment was perfect because to have changed any piece of that along the way would not have led me to exactly here.
Conversely, if I’m not where I want to be I’m likely to look for a new direction to take hoping discern the best one. Sometimes it’s not as direct a path one might have hoped for.