2015—It’s A Wrap!!!

This past year has probably been the most eventful of all in terms of new experiences.  I started a new job in a new country, but more importantly, I traveled to Hong Kong, Bangkok, Phuket, Taipei, Manama, Limassol, Rome, and Milan.  An entry in The Expat Diaries is coming very soon.

You hope that each year brings more experience, understanding and wisdom.  For me, it also brings a bit more patience.  I have learned to accept that certain things take time and that one must be in a particular place (mentally, spiritually, and emotionally) in order for said things to happen.  You have to be able to reflect and that has become valuable over the past five years.  Living in Riyadh forces a woman to learn patience, and because things move so slowly over here, there is time to think certain things through.

A Story to Tell

It’s been over a month since I last posted, and probably over a year since I posted something like this.  My new life as an expat has its challenges, and said challenges have kept me away from my writing as a necessity.  But since writing is probably more a part of me than my career choice, you can probably imagine the slow metaphorical death I’m undergoing.  Living in the Kingdom is especially challenging in so many ways.  The only way I can deal with it is to (1) focus on my kids and (2) travel as often as possible.

I’ve said before that I’m living my dream.   As I write this, I am sitting in a lovely hotel in Rome, Italy.  I’m a block from the Piazza del Popolo and maybe 15 minutes from Vatican City.  Italy is and always has been #1 on the bucket list; the first place I wanted to travel to when I was a child.  Momma gave me a globe and I picked out the boot and said I wanted to try it on.

But then my life took a turn—as life does—and Italy became a dream, a mirage.  I spent 20 years of my life as a caregiver and caretaker to my parents.  I watched my friends go out, have fun, date, fall in love, get married, have babies, etc.  My life was different: countless hospital visits, learning how to distribute medicines, understanding the effects of ravaging diseases, surgeries upon surgeries, all while working (and later, going to graduate school).  I had minimal help.  I tried to date, but it was too much.  I knew my parents wanted me to have that life but between caring for them and working, I had no time for myself, and that included self-care.  At this time, I was undiagnosed, so my emotions swung like a pendulum.