Taking the Leap

This is only a fraction of what I experienced, maybe 20% of the whole story. There’s no way to fully capture everything I went through, but I’ll do my best.

Despite a blown transmission and shredded tires along the way, I made the move. Just $2,000 in my pocket. No job lined up. No apartment waiting for me. No friends or family for hundreds of miles.

It sounds reckless. Maybe even stupid. But I was determined.

I can’t fully explain the emotions that pushed me forward, but I’ll try.

The Struggle and the Adjustment

Feeling Like an Alien

From the moment I arrived, I felt like I didn’t belong.

I spoke differently. Acted differently. Even drove differently. Everything about my life in Wisconsin had been second nature, now, even something as simple as making a left turn at a stoplight felt overwhelming.

It wasn’t until I was completely removed from my comfort zone that I realized how deeply ingrained my habits were.

Moving meant letting go of everything familiar. My family, my friends, my daily routine, even parts of my own identity. It was disorienting. Suddenly, the smallest things became new sources of stress.

And then, there was the traffic.

Florida drivers? A whole different breed. Speed limits? More like suggestions. Highway signs? Confusing as hell. People merging at 70 mph like they had a death wish? Every. Single. Day.

I’d expected challenges, but I wasn’t prepared for just how overwhelming even simple tasks would feel.

Culture Shock & the Weight of Loneliness

It wasn’t just the traffic. It was everything.

The way people talked. Their sense of humor. The way they lived. It felt like I had landed on another planet.

One day, after weeks of nothing but fast food, I finally went grocery shopping at Publix. The cashier made a small mistake, and I made a sarcastic joke, something that would have been totally normal back home.

Big mistake.

The look on her face? I had offended her. That’s when it hit me: Holy shit. I’m not in the Midwest anymore.

I wish I had written down my thoughts and emotions every day because so much happened in those first few months that I can barely remember it all now.

But what I do remember is the isolation.

For 30 years, I had a routine, a community, a life that felt solid. The day I left, all of that disappeared.

I had dreamed of leaving Madison for years but never thought I’d actually have the guts to do it. And yet, somehow, I did.

I told myself: If I fail, I fail. If I succeed, I succeed.

Either way, at least I would know I tried.

The Housing Nightmare

Before I moved, I read that finding an apartment in Florida would be easy.

“There are places everywhere,” they said.

Bullshit.

I went from place to place, application after application, fail, fail, fail.

Studios smaller than my bathroom back in Madison were renting for $900 a month. Panic set in fast.

I ended up signing a lease for a place way more expensive than I had budgeted for. No job. No steady income. It was a financial disaster waiting to happen.

But at that point, I thought, What do I have to lose?

Good credit? Maybe.
A roof over my head? Possibly.
Money? Didn’t really have much to begin with.

It felt like a gamble, but I had no other choice.

Post-Move Depression Hit Hard

Moving had been exciting. Until it wasn’t.

Post-move depression came in like a wrecking ball. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I regretted leaving.

About a month in, I hit a serious low.

Seeing my friends on social media, laughing, hanging out, enjoying life, was fucking crippling. Meanwhile, I was alone in a place full of strangers, with no one to talk to. There’s a difference sense of loneliness when there’s literally no one you can ask out to coffee or call to hang out.

My phone became a lifeline, even though it rarely lit up. I checked it constantly, hoping for a message, a call, anything.

Here I was, living in paradise, the sunshine, the beaches, the palm trees, all the things people spend thousands to experience… and I couldn’t even bring myself to step outside.

Clawing My Way Back

Eventually, I started working. The job required me to drive around and interact with people, something that, at first, felt awful. I still felt like an outsider, like I didn’t belong. But little by little, things changed.

I started feeling like myself again. I laughed. I joked. I made people smile. They had no idea that just weeks earlier, I had been drowning in loneliness. Every interaction helped me rebuild my confidence.

Lessons Learned & Moving Forward

Starting over with only $2,000, no job, no apartment, and no one within hundreds of miles? It sounds insane. And maybe it was.

Nothing could have prepared me for the emotional rollercoaster I went through.

Everything was unfamiliar. Every part of my old life had been stripped away. And depression? It nearly consumed my everything.

But slowly, things shifted.

I got a job.
I started connecting with people.
I forced myself to step outside my comfort zone.

And day by day, I fought my way back.

Looking back, I realize this journey wasn’t just about moving to a new place, it was about proving to myself that I could do hard things. That I could face my fears. That I could make life-altering choices and come out stronger on the other side.

Would I do it again? I already have. Check out my move from Minneapolis to Salt Lake City Here.

Because now, I know one thing for sure: I am capable of anything.