If this was a movie, my life that is, I'm not sure where to categorize it. Would it be a tearjerker and the heroine in the end does defeat the impossible? I'm honestly beginning to wonder.

My blog has been neglected over the past year. I think I put it off as long as possible to give myself, and this place, my life - a fighting chance. I am however ready to admit defeat on a few aspects whereas I've gained a whole new perspective on others.

I've endured the family reunions and visited old haunts. Not much has changed, except they could all use a fresh coat of paint. It's as if everything has been frozen in time somehow. I'm not really sure what I expected, perhaps my nostalgia got the better of me. I suppose "you can never go home" really is true.

I've come to the painful realization that while some folks look at all my moving around the globe as enviable, I on the other hand know now that I've done nothing but run. Attempting to put distance between myself and the places that evoke painful memories, people that do the same. I've also come to the truth that I do not have a mother (not in the emotional sense), never had a father and everything I imagined was just the memories of a little girl. Somehow I tried to hold on to all the good stuff for most of my adult life but have failed to move past the bad stuff and grow up. I'm 44 years old and honestly just a teenager stuck in an adult body.

I am here in a country that I was born in that feels as strange to me as the moon. Yes, the scenery sure is pretty; however, all the wonder leaves me somehow cold. I am torn between staying and leaving at the first opportunity. I talked myself into going last year by convincing myself I would see all the places in Europe that I missed on my last go-around. I haven't been anywhere further than England thus far. It's still on the table. I suppose I should be grateful I have another 4 weeks of vacation to burn. Not sure what to do with it all.

I also envisioned that I would somehow reconnect with my mother, but I suppose after 25 years of relatively little contact via phone and none in person that was a bit naive of me. We are strangers, she is worse than I remember her 25 years ago, a full blown alcoholic and completely emotionally unavailable. So much for that. I gave up on the whole family thing. Especially since it appears to want to draw me into the abyss that I ran away from so long ago! Just can't do it.

My son hated me for the first four months and only now has learned some German and made a few friends. Of course attending an English speaking school everything is hunky-dory for him (he has no clue how expensive this school is) and he now wants to stay and finish high school here. He confuses me - then again, he's a teenager so it's par for the course.

My desire to throw in the towel is sometimes so overwhelming that is all I can do to hang on just one more day, one more week, one more month. How much longer I can bear it...who the hell knows. I don't know anyone outside of work, don't really go out (it's frowned upon as a single woman over here, go figure...) and have pretty much turned into a hermit. I have my US satellite TV, my link back to the US over the net and well, we only speak English at home of course. My co-workers don't understand this at all. To them, I am a German that has returned home and I should damn well just fit in. Well, I got news for you - I don't! Maybe I just don't want to.

By all accounts I should look upon my accomplishments with satisfaction. I've moved to Europe where everyone else apparently wants to be. I have a good job, a decent kid (so far! lol) and want for nothing. I have almost 44 days of vacation and national holidays to blow per year, although since I am used to blowing my measly 10 US days on family emergencies and doctor visits, I honestly have little experience with this much time off. Sounds weird, I know.

I don't have, or need, a car. With almost 9 bucks per gallon who wants a damn car? Putting a kid through private school is expensive enough and the public transport system is excellent here. I live in a rented house with a terrace, quiet and privacy and a basement (which I always wanted). yet I am completely and utterly miserable. How can I explain that?? I've spent countless sleepless nights on that quandry.

My musings will no doubt drown in the bottomless chaos that is the web. At least I'm having a dialogue with myself - finally. 'bout time I think.