Taking the Leap
This is just a glimpse of my experience, only about 20% of what I went through on this adventure. So much happened that words can hardly capture it all.
Despite a transmission failure and shredded tires on the way, I made the leap to move with only $2,000 in my pocket. No job lined up, no housing secured, no familiar faces for hundreds of miles. It might sound crazy, but I was determined. I can’t fully convey the emotions that drove me, but I’ll try.
The Struggle and the Adjustment
Feeling Like an Alien
When I arrived, I felt completely out of place. I spoke differently, acted differently, even drove differently. Everything was foreign. It wasn’t until I was out of my usual routine that I realized how deeply ingrained my habits and personality were. Simple things felt daunting, like making a left turn at a stoplight on my way to the local Publix. “Scared” doesn’t quite cover it. I had never felt so out of my element.
Moving meant shedding everything familiar, my family, friends, routine, even parts of myself. The smallest things, like navigating traffic, became new stressors. I quickly learned that traffic here is intense; people cruise at 70 mph on highways marked 55 mph and make wild turns onto the main road. It was a recipe for panic.
Culture Shock and the Struggle with Depression
It wasn’t just the driving. Everything felt different, the way people interacted, what they found funny, how they lived. One day, I went to Publix after weeks of drive-thru meals. When the cashier made a small mistake, I made a sarcastic comment I thought was harmless. Big mistake. She was offended, and that’s when it hit me: “Holy shit! I’m not in the Midwest anymore.”
Looking back, I wish I had documented each day’s emotions and experiences. So much happened that I can hardly remember all of it now. Moving away from everything familiar left me in a kind of identity crisis. For 30 years, I’d had a routine, a community, a sense of self I could lean on. It was all stripped away the day I moved.
For years, I’d dreamed of leaving Madison but never thought I’d have the courage to do it. Somehow, I found it. I told myself, “If I fail, I fail. If I succeed, I succeed.” I proved to myself that I could face my fears and make life-altering choices.
Housing Struggles
Before the move, I’d read that finding housing would be easy, “Apartments are everywhere,” they said. Not true. I went from place to place: fail, fail, fail. Studio apartments smaller than my bathroom back in Madison were going for $900. I panicked and signed a lease for a place more expensive than I’d budgeted. No job, no steady income, it was a disaster waiting to happen. But I figured, “What do I have to lose? Good credit, maybe? The risk of homelessness? Money I don’t even have?” It was a gamble.
Dealing with Post-Move Depression
Post-move depression drop-kicked the shit out of me. I didn’t want to get out of bed or talk to anyone. I regretted leaving. About a month in, I hit a low point. Seeing my friends on Facebook enjoying events, hanging out together, fucking crippled me. I was alone, with no one to talk to or hang out with. My phone became a lifeline, even though it never lit up with a text, a call or notification. It was like being in paradise with no one to share it with. Sunshine, beaches, people pay thousands for this experience, yet I couldn’t even bring myself to step outside.
Eventually, I started working. My job involved driving around and interacting with people. At first, it felt awkward. I still felt like an alien, but gradually, it got easier. I started feeling like myself again, joking, laughing, even making others smile. They had no idea that just weeks before, I’d been battling deep depression.
Lessons Learned and Moving Forward
Taking this leap with only $2,000, no job, no housing, and no one for hundreds of miles sounds insane. But I was determined. Nothing could have prepared me for the overwhelming emotions and culture shock that awaited me.
Everything was unfamiliar: how people talked, how they lived, even how they drove. I was terrified, leaving behind my family, friends, and every piece of familiarity. I quickly realized how deeply my old life was ingrained.
Depression nearly consumed me. I spent days unable to get out of bed, drowning in loneliness, while my friends back home were having fun. I checked my phone obsessively, hoping for any form of human connection. I was in paradise, surrounded by sunshine, beaches, and beauty, yet I was utterly miserable.
But slowly, things shifted. I got a job, began interacting with people, and fought back against the isolation. Day by day, I rediscovered pieces of myself. I started laughing, joking, and connecting with people, even though just weeks earlier, I’d fe
