Suffering from Moving Syndrome

These past days I have seriously considered giving up and moving back to the States. Going back to NYC. Will I ever be happy anywhere? Is this symptomatic chronic moving syndrome? Do I suffer from moving syndrome? I posed those questions to my friend Cassandra during our breakfast Thursday morning. I expected her to reassure me that I will someday have a permanent home happily settling in one place for the rest of my life.

Instead she whispered a “yes” as she slowly brought her café macchiato to her lips and took a discreet sip.

My mouth dropped. Was she serious? I do have moving syndrome?

“People like you, me and Loren, we get bored quickly,” she said referencing her track record in dating as proof that it’s difficult to hold her interest. I replied that I never even get the chance to be bored with a guy because my relationships never last past six months. So I don’t know if that holds true for me in regards to men.

But as far as cities go … well it’s a different story. I have lived in so many places in my opinion, too many places for my life — Oxford (Ohio), Cleveland, Kent (Ohio), Washington D.C., Cleveland, Washington D.C., Hoboken/New York City, Cleveland, Firenze, Athens (Ohio), Firenze. I feel like a yo-yo. Will my list ever end?

The thing with humans is that we never stop wanting. If I could just be satisfied then maybe I wouldn’t always be searching or moving. But maybe I am fighting against human nature. Why am I so restless?

I remember one episode of “Sex And The City” where Carrie was going through the checklist of the three important things in a woman’s life: Apartment, Job and Boyfriend. At the time of the episode she only had two out of three. I currently just have the apartment and I am not sure how long that will last.

I always think how things look greener on the other side. And it’s true. I never imagined that I would have so many dislikes when it comes to Florence. Italy seems so beautiful from the other side of the pond, especially the Italian men. And I know that life is difficult no matter where one lives. But I did not imagine it like this. I also didn’t imagine that I would be selective in which Tuscans I actually liked.

Why can’t someone just call me and tell me what I want and the next step I am supposed to take? Why can’t I get out of my head?

I asked my sister for advice. She is biased. She told me to move back to the States. Her life is “the program.” No offense; a person on the program cannot understand a person who decides to get off “the program.”

No one understands that I feel obligated to all the people I call “friend” in Florence. I just can’t up and leave them because I can’t buy a pair of socks, or because I can’t afford to sustain the lifestyle I want. I’ll just be another person they speak about when they tell the newcomer how all their friends always leave Florence (see April 2, 2009 post “Keeping Friends”).

“I miss pedicures, and haircuts and buying things like shoes,” I confessed to Cassandra.

But above all this, the thing that bothers me the most is not being able to write for a credible newspaper. It does not have to be the New York Times. I would like to write for any newspaper that has some ethics and reports the daily news. How many times can I write that Italy is “beautiful?” When I interview people they are just trying to plug their product or business all for tourism. And I suspect that some people only befriend me because they know I write, hoping one day I'll write about their paintings, political cause, Web site, and other services that cater to Americans. It sickens me.

Before I left the States I had to search and discover my true feelings for wanting to return to Italy. If it was for my ex I could not return to Florence. I had to do it for myself. Before I left I told myself that I can no longer move to places just for an experience. I had to put my career first. I would go to Italy, but staying in Italy depended on my journalism career.

I am working on a project, which I am excited about. I will assess my decision to stay here in six months. In December I will return to my two homes, NYC and Cleveland. By then I should know if the project is moving forward. I know I said a year, but I can’t linger that long.