Phantom Family Syndrome

The Problems
i. I’m terrible at living alone.
ii. I don’t think the status quo is healthy.
iii. I don’t fit into the status quo.



i.

I’ve never lived alone before.

(Well, okay: literally, I’m not alone.

In fact, I’m very lucky – I have a room and a lovely housemate in a safe area (Crystal City, Arlington, VA). I have a job – bartending at an Italian restaurant. I have some excellent friends in my region, and many more outside of the state. My family is caring, and understands me. I have a lot of interests, and there’s tons to do. I’m improving as a dancer. I’m not broke.)

But there’s still something painful in my otherwise acceptable life: I don’t have a community.

I don’t live with a partner, or with my family. I don’t have a neighborhood. I don’t wake up next to a warm, sweet person, who tells me about their dreams. I don’t walk down the street and see friends, or acquaintances. When I want to see someone, I need to seek them out. There are random meetings, but they are brief. I don’t know enough people to create a critical mass of random-friend-encounters.

I got used to being happy.

I’m used to buying two tickets for every show. I’m used to cooking eggs for two, used to brushing my teeth while someone else takes out their contacts, used to walking to a shared rhythm. I’m used to having a reason to read aloud. I’m used to hugging more than 20 people a day. I’m used to grinning and tackle-embraces, and the ease of total trust.

I've lived in Oberlin for 5 years. I've been in relationships, with only a few months of single-ness, since I was 14. Nearly a decade.

I miss my karass, and my many little duprasses. I miss the way every member of my friend-family laughs. I am missing many limbs: I have phantom-family syndrome.

Phantom Family Syndrome is draining, even for little ol' extroverted, optimistic me. Vacant little me. I need to push myself to do things. I need to build up my own momentum– I can’t count on my friends to push me onwards and upwards. A life without positive feedback loops is hard. There’s just me.

A lone girl in a new city.

Between Johnny and my friends, this summer was nearly perfect. I started to love friends I’d never had the time to properly appreciate, both in Oberlin and DC. I was never unhappy. Every day was a wash of joy. Each day, I woke up smiling, and fell asleep contented. I had the spikes of happiness, and the long calm of joy. If you sampled my blood, it would be as happy-sweet as maple syrup.

Then, the fall winds started up, and the flock dispersed for different climates. After so much ecstasy, I'm left with no serotonin.

Losing John hit hard, especially coupled with losing my immediate friends. It was a nuclear winter after the terrible first blast. The heart is vaporized, and the body grows lifeless.

I got used to feeling so warm all the time. The cold creeps in so easily now.

The Newest Transplant to Washington, DC

I just moved to Washington, DC.

Though each item has a bit more detail, the basic TO DO list is this:

1. Get a job.
2. Get a place to live / sublet / rent.
3. Take chances.

If you would like to assist me in any way with these tasks, that'd be very much appreciated.




I fit the contents of my life in a suitcase, 2 shoulder bags, and a backpack. There are 4 small boxes in UPS storage, and 3 small items in Brandi Ferrebee's storage area. That's all I own. That feels good. There will be less and less of it, as time goes on.

The things that matter most are my laptop, cell phone, mp3 player, and a children's book called "Love is A Special Way of Feeling."

After hours of packing, with the great patience of Brandi, we left Oberlin at 10:30pm to arrive in Brandi's home just-outside-of-Winchester, VA at 4:30am. It's fascinating, to see a home, as opposed to a house. Brandi's family built the whole thing, and when they get old, they'll convert the downstairs office to a bedroom. There's something beautiful in that commitment.

Right now, I'm not so clear on life commitment. I'm excited to be free, to be living and working, and taking chances and having adventures.

I don't know where I'll be after the summer. If I get a year-long job, that will dictate this year, but if I don't, I'll be wild and mobile. There's a whole world, and I want to learn about it. I'll visit Oberlin -- it's where my friends are. I'll try to visit the rest of you, wherever you are, if you'll have me. If you'd like to reach me, the best bet is my email: aries.indenbaum@gmail.com.

And when I have a place, I love guests. I want to be a good host.

I was happy to see Lilly, Matt, Sandhya and Anna, and also what they represent: being able to be connected with my friends. The act of running into people at a subway stop. In the car with Ma'ayan and Brandi, I realized how much I trusted them. How I filtered nothing, and didn't think about our relationship as a game, or something where I had an objective, but natural. Comfortable.




This year at Oberlin has been good for me in many ways. Though it's not as learning-centric as student life was, it taught me good lesson. I learned values, not vocabulary. Mostly from my friends. I don't have a strong sense of external value-passing: I'm not affiliated with any church, I have a small family, and no strong roots to a given place. I've learned a lot from my parents' values, but I love learning from my friends: their generosity, their bravery, their loyalty, their honesty, their ambition.

I'll have done it right if my tombstone says, "She was a good friend."

Where do I go?

In a few months, I'll be moving. I need a job. But where? And what? I begin to ponder. All comments beloved.

I Dream About:
NOrleans
Seattle
Austin
Portland
SF
Big Cities in Europe


That Could Be Cool:
DC
Boston
Philly
Pittsburgh
Ann Arbor
Northampton
Cities in the SW
Cities in CA
College towns
NYC
MOST CITIES OUTSIDE THE STATES.


I like warm cities that are weirdo friendly. Points for a music community, low-cost of living, less terrible unemployment, and hella dancers. Small cities are cool too. Got a clue?