Uprooted, Adjusting, and Now Learning to Heal

I feel like my whole life’s been flipped upside down lately. I packed up everything and moved 2,700 miles away from the place I called home for the last 27 years, all because I wanted a better future for me and the kids. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t expect the small things to get to me the way they have.

Take the water, for example. Not only does it taste off, but I don’t like all the stuff in it — the chemicals, the fluoride, the PFAS. It just doesn’t sit right with me. So I started filtering the water in the kitchen and even went as far as buying distilled water jugs for the bathrooms so we could brush our teeth with something cleaner. I even bought filters for the shower heads. It might sound over the top, but honestly, it gives me peace of mind.

Even with all that, I probably drink less water than I should. And now I’m realizing how much that might have been catching up with me. Yesterday I ended up in the ER for seven hours. They ran everything — bloodwork, urine sample, CT scan — and finally told me what was going on: diverticulitis.

So here I am on a three-day broth diet, on top of 10 days of antibiotics, and after that, I’ll have to completely change the way I eat. No corn. No popcorn. A whole list of things I’ll have to avoid forever. Which feels overwhelming, because I was already so limited with food. I’m gluten intolerant, allergic to chicken, and my body just rejects a bunch of other things. Now it feels like I’ve got to become a full-on food cop with myself just to stay healthy.

It’s exhausting. I already gave up so much by moving, and now my body is asking me to give up even more. But at the same time, I don’t really have a choice. If I want to be here for my kids and actually thrive in this new chapter, I have to figure out how to work with it.

I never imagined my “fresh start” would look like this — standing in my kitchen sipping broth, keeping mental tabs on everything I can’t eat, popping antibiotics, while giant jugs of distilled water sit in the bathroom. But here I am. And honestly? All I can do is take it day by day, and try to see it as part of the journey I was meant to be on.


☕ Support the Journey

If this post resonated with you or made you feel a little less alone on your own path, you’re always welcome to support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing real stories and new chapters, one step at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

The Itch I Didn’t Pack For…

If you told me a few months ago that I’d be dealing with ticks in my house, I would’ve laughed and probably made a face. But here we are.

Back in Tahoe, fleas and ticks just weren’t part of daily life. I never had to think about them. But now that we’re in Maryland? I’ve already found three ticks inside the house. It’s giving me that mental itchiness you can’t quite shake. You know where you’re not even sure if something’s crawling on you, but your brain says “probably.” The stupid phantom feelings, LOL.

It’s not just ticks either. The mosquitoes here have made me their personal buffet. I’m completely covered in bites, and I’ve just about had it. The kids are fine (I haven’t put anything on them), and the cats are indoor-only, so they’ve been spared. Me? Not so lucky.

So, I’m trying the natural route. I’ve started using essential oils in the yard, and I’ve been working on planting herbs outside that are supposed to help repel ticks and fleas, like Rosemary, Mint, and Lavender. I also ordered a product called No-Bite off Amazon, hoping it’ll give me some kind of relief. No chemicals, no bug sprays on the kids — just me trying to keep the bugs off my body and out of my space without losing my mind. I even ordered the Wondercide Flea & Tick Concentrate for Yard & Garden and sprayed the whole backyard the other day. Not totally sure I did it right or if I used enough, because I still found a tick in the house today. So… yeah. I’m learning as I go. Maybe I need a second round, or maybe the ticks didn’t get the memo yet.

No one warned me about this part of East Coast living. The trees are beautiful. The air is soft. The backyard is green and alive… but so are the bugs.

Still, I wouldn’t trade the peace we’ve found here. I just didn’t expect to be sharing it with quite so many six-legged roommates.

One bite, one oil blend, and one deep breath at a time.


If this post made you laugh, cringe, or feel just a little more seen in your own messy moments, you can always support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing the real stuff, one bug bite at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele