Moving plans

Remember when I said before that the powers that be should feel free to laugh at my plans? Well, I suppose they are… in a way that I hadn’t even seen coming.

*deep breath* I’m moving back to Taiwan because my parents are there and because I will have access to good, affordable, nationalized healthcare.

My health has been on a decline for the last ten years, so in a way I suppose I should have seen this possibility, but who ever really wants to think that their body would refuse to cooperate with them like this? I always assumed that I’d hit a new low and that it would plateau off, or that I would begin to heal, but the last twelve months have pretty much laughed at that idea. My parents had been nagging me to return to Taiwan for health reasons for the last three or so years, but the decision was pretty much cemented when I went back to Taiwan for a visit and spent the entire month mostly asleep and either in pain or close to pain. My parents pointed out that was no way to live and that I needed to figure out my health situation and stabilize it and I needed to do it in a situation where I wouldn’t have to fret about keeping myself alive in the meantime.

It’s strange and quite devastating to have to resort to returning to my parents’ home and sponging off them at my age. That would be the pride speaking, yes, but there’s also the fact that I haven’t really lived full-time with both my parents since I was a very young child and to say it’s going to be stressful is like saying the moon is kind of far away.

That said, I can’t afford to get the level of healthcare I need in the US and I am physically and mentally incapable of holding down a “proper” job at this point. Some days I have energy to do things, but I am bedridden with inexplicable pain. Some days I lack enough energy to even contemplate feeding myself. There are days when I sleep for eighteen hours, wake long enough to eat some soup, and drowse with a book until I pass out again.

Asides from the fact that I am not going to make my goals for writing and publishing, even if I had the energy it is now going to have to be devoted to packing up/donating/throwing away my life here in the US. So there’s that for ultimate Peytabee hilarity, right there.

Today, I spent the entire day in bed, browsing the internet for articles to advice on moving internationally, what to bring, what not to bring, etc.

The funny thing is — although I was born in Taiwan a lifetime ago, I consider myself to be expatriating there rather than returning back to my motherland. Or not so funny, really, but that’s another blog post for another day.

Eight hours later, I’m still at a loss as to what to pack and what to ship, if anything.

I have blankets and linens and cookware that I’d been lovingly, painstakingly and expensively building up for my home that I can’t fathom giving up. Shipping costs are prohibitive, however, and living space being at a premium on a small island country like Taiwan means I probably shouldn’t bring things back to my parents’ home just to clutter up their lives. That seems like a surefire way to get my parents pissy at me in very quick order.

Thoughts?

What, asides from mementos and photos would you definitely want to bring with you on an international move?

 

P.S: For those who haven’t read Anne McCaffrey’s Powers That Be, Peytabee is a mashup of Powers That Be and what they call the planet. I just find it cute/funny/shorter.

 

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