Well, here I am. All sorted (well, unpacked) in my new flat. My books are on shelves. I've worked out how the washing machine works, and the cooker. My mind is beginning to settle - I can read again! (For me, an inability to read anything longer than a thousand words or so is indicative of Serious Stress.)
And now what? I've moved to a town where I know nobody. I have very good reasons to be here - there is a station, and theatres, and creative things for children in the middle of town. But I can't make friends with a station. Nor can I spend all my time using the station to see friends who live elsewhere. I have to do the brave thing - find book groups and writing groups, and walk in as the new girl.
I should, surely, be used to this? When travelling, I meet new people all the time. I can strike conversations easily. Can this be so very different?
Somehow it is. I've met some extraordinary people when I've been travelling. But most of them I'll never see again. In my experience, most travellers take very little prompting to talk about themselves and their travelling - and I'm more than happy to chip in with a reminisce or two. We might have a beer together, watch the sun go down, pass on information about bus or train times and great places to stay, and then it's farewell and on to the next town. (Tika and Everlasting, of course, are exceptions!)
But here - I feel a need to tread more warily. My interest in those I meet is as sharp as ever - but now it matters what they think of me. Where is the balance between being interested, and being nosey? I don't want to look pushy, or - like Nellie-no-mates - desperate for people to talk to. On the other hand, though I'm not unhappy on my own, I know that my life will be richer if I become part of this community.
It's over thirty-five years since I last moved to a new town. At the moment all this newness is an adventure. But sometimes I have to grit my teeth and be brave.
And if it's like this for me, when I know the language and systems and how to navigate the transport system … what is it like for refugees? My nanodrops of courage are nothing besides the reserves that they need.