I'm packing up and preparing to leave the house I've lived in for 32 years. Moving across the country to be closer to my son -- and young grandchildren. It's time to go, it's the thing to do -- and it's like I'm dying. As is a "social self" of me in a way. I was depressed and pretty dysfunctional after my late husband died 20 years ago. But here in the accumulation of this house, time kinda stood still. Not really of course. But it seemed like it. Me not liking reality, not facing reality, not know what to do, etc. . .

Until now, it's time to leave.

It's a death, of a sort, for sure. And I have 3 elderly cats and 2 who died in the last year. They had been my family -- so I kinda feel like my time is getting close to being up, too. Just because I've been so close to them and so miss the ones who have gone.

But physically I seem to be doing OK. Slowing down some -- balance not so good, eyes even with glasses not so good as when I was younger. So it's possible I could have some kind of new life out there.

It's just that right now, it feels like dying, and it's anguish.

There's a movie out this month -- POMS -- with Diane Keaton about this moving on process. Good to see I'm not alone with it, but still depressing. In the movie, she DOES move on until, before she eventually physically dies.

It's just so. . .hard. Can anybody relate? I was with my late husband when he got his terminal diagnosis, with a friend as she declined and died, etc. Gotta remember, my turn is coming, they did it, I can, too. In the meantime. . .one moment at a time, the moment is all we ever have anyway. Just so hard. . .