The whole process of getting my stuff organized, throwing some stuff away, putting the stuff I'm keeping in boxes, organizing the boxes, cleaning my apartment in the hopes of getting my security deposit back, and figuring out how I'm going to get it across town to my new apartment-- this isn't so easy. You'd think it would be for a ex-military person, who has been through this moving thing a few times. (Maybe it was just easier when TMO would send contractors to my house to pack my stuff for me.)
Somewhere in the Midwest, a recent high school graduate is looking at the calendar, perhaps thinking "Mid July. Summer's more than half over." A month from now, it begins-- finish packing, put the stuff on a truck, drive the truck to campus, and unload the truck. Or car, or minivan, or trailer. Whatever.
We all have our places we start from. My starting place was actually a long time ago and far away-- I remember saying to my self, often, that if I could just concentrate on school I'd be able to do all right. If I could just be a student, things would be fine. If I could just get rid of all this external crap, I could concentrate on classes. Getting rid of the external crap took a lot longer and was a lot more difficult than I had anticipated.
And yet, here I am, packing my stuff to move to a college campus. When you are a full time student, you work on campus, and you live across the street from campus, it's hard to be anything but a student.
Some days, the adjustment isn't about healing, or changing how you think, or dealing with nightmares and flashbacks. Days like these, the adjustment is pinching yourself, wondering if you're dreaming. And then, being blown away by the realization that you're not dreaming. That you're really going to be in a place where you've wanted to be for a long, long time-- in fact, it's a place where you've never been.