My Inappropriate Life

When I look back on the last decade, on one hand I cringe and on the other, I applaud myself for getting this far. But it was not a fun time, despite my posts on Facebook to the contrary. I lived in constant fear of becoming one of those little old ladies, curled up in a doorway somewhere, her remaining possessions in a black trash bag that served as a pillow, trying to keep warm under an old tattered coat.

But I’ll start at the beginning of this journey in 2010, which was miserable year for a lot of people. The market had crashed, and people were being left homeless and destitute — and I was one of them. Trying to hang onto my home after getting a divorce from a drunken bi-polar maniac (which actually brought some peace into a turbulent time) I battled with banks and eventually, I lost.

Living as I did in a remote area of Washington State, I battled with depression and loneliness until I finally gave up trying to do what I thought was the right thing.

The Banks Won

I allowed the house to go into foreclosure (along with the other real estate investments I had) and sold literally, everything I owned. My car, furniture, my kitchen stuff. I found a wonderful home for my two precious kitties, the hardest thing I think I have ever done. What I did decide to save went into a friend’s garage with the hope that one day, I would retrieve the memories so carefully stored away in plastic containers.

November 16, 2016 was the day when, with just one suitcase, my backpack that held my laptop and cameras, I left the country to go “home” to family, where I could lick my wounds and try to figure out what the hell I was going to do. At 67 years old, it isn’t the easiest thing to start a new life with zip for resources.

And that is when a family member, who will remain un-named, told me my life is inappropriate! I was completely mortified, which made me crawl even deeper into the shell I had created.

Anyone observing me wouldn’t have guessed the fear and confusion I was dealing with, as I continued doing what I had been doing for years; traveling to, writing about, and photographing exotic places. But the experiences had lost their color and vibrancy. I was seeing things in muted colors and my cameras were used only as recording devices and hardly ever just for fun any more.

During these fear-filled times, I traveled a lot and tried to keep my personal blog going, but I know myself well enough, especially now, looking back, that I didn’t blog much or post many photos. I would go in spurts, when I was feeling more hopeful and then I would crash and disappear. It’s illuminating -looking through my photos, I can tell from the lack or abundance of images how depressed or happy I was. There are gaps and then there are periods where I have thousands of photos!

A Chameleon

Someone once called me a chameleon, alluding to the fact I can put on whatever face is needed at the time. So people on the outside would see what I projected — and envied me what they saw as freedom. I kept my internal turmoil to myself, most of the time. I felt completely defeated and useless.

But eventually, as I settled more into being “location independent,” with no fixed home, I started to look at my life differently and began to wonder how I could share these experiences with others and perhaps help people who, more often than not, through no fault of their own, end up like me.

As I began to look ahead, instead of wallowing in self-pity, I began to look for ways to go about putting the word out there that there are ways around the challenges, looking for a way towards security and away from fears, that keep us rooted in one spot.

For me, it’s taken a huge amount of soul searching, which for me is an on-going process, and a lot of time to come up with some solutions.

I’m feeling much more sure of myself now. I’m still location independent, but with my recent purchase of a car, I’m not feeling nearly as trapped as I did before, even though that puts a real strain on my finances.

My goal is to take you on the journey with me as I educate and enlighten people and their friends and family who are in similar situations. At the moment, I have some ideas about how to go about doing that. One way is to post daily, as I will document my trials and hopefully very few errors. You’ll be able to reach me through the blog and I would love to hear about your situation, hear your suggestions and what ideas you have about how to handle your inappropriate life.

Until next time,

Cheers!

My Inappropriate Life

The title, My Inappropriate Life, is a badge of honor. When I was at perhaps the lowest point in my life, a family member told me my life was inappropriate. But I refuse to accept that and I am hoping to take others on a journey with me as I explore alternate options.

Susan Jewitt Colby

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My Inappropriate Life

The title, My Inappropriate Life, is a badge of honor. When I was at perhaps the lowest point in my life, a family member told me my life was inappropriate. But I refuse to accept that and I am hoping to take others on a journey with me as I explore alternate options.