There is a very thin line between love and hate and an even smaller margin when it comes to insanity.
While I may have felt slightly suicidal in my desperation a month or two back, the black dog as has turned into a kind of numbness.
Living alone for close on four months now has taken its toll. Yes, please remind me it is temporary and then share how long a piece of string truly is.
Christmas and its forced commercial family orientated white picket fence lie just intensifies that I may have a husband and kids who love me but I am ‘homeless’.
As most of you know I grew up with my grandparents whom I adore. However, when I was a child all my belongings {my toys, books and anything else that was mine} was placed in a box in the cupboard every night to tidy up.
Looking closely, one would never have said a child lived there at all at the end of the day. I didn’t have my own room and slept on a mattress next to Ouma, holding her hand every night until she fell asleep.
Perhaps this is what is haunting me….. I have nowhere to put my box of belongings. What had been my home is now a shell and the alternative a bigger rabbits hole.
Some days I wish I was a simple minded creature who didn’t think of six impossible things like Alice in Wonderland before breakfast.. .but then, I wouldn’t be me.
I like me. Even the questioning me who dares to dream.
Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry by Wenchy from the second cloud on your left .
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We moved 5 times in 7 years when i was in primarry school.
I moved 6 times since i moved to holland and i might have to move again soon
I still dont have a place to put my stuff
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You are clearly a much more together person than I am. I need to know where I belong. Which shelf is mine. Where my stuff goes. What my address is. Probably why I’ve never rented a house, always buy one. I need to know it’s permanent. My mind is a difficult place to live. LOL
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Amazing that your grandparents made you hide your belongings at night. Almost like they were a bit schizophrenic about having a child living with them? That must have hurt. Oh, by the way … re: living alone: if you ever do find out how long that piece of string is, let me know. I’m desperately searching for the end of it …
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I’m not that together really. I cried last weekend cause i had nothing that is mine.
I am applying for a job where i will have to travel a lot. Again, nowhere to call home really.
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although i do understand your point…just know where ever you are is it…you are all you need….you are enough….
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Nicely put Wenchy…I think when you find a place to put your box, it really does feel like home.
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I know this is not what you want to hear, but you have a LOT. I own my home, and my stuff, and car, but I am lonely as hell. Quinn asked me what I would wish for if I had one wish on Thursday and I burst into tears. Because all I could think of was ‘someone to love me’. That is all I want and all I have ever wanted, and yet it’s the one thing I can not seem to find. It fucking sux.
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when I don’t have a definite, permanent address that includes next summer I can’t concentrate – I can’t plant thing in my garden cause I am not sure I will be there to see them and then I can’t care what inside the house looks like and then I can’t care what I look like or what anyone will eat and where I’ll go next and tomorrow just isn’t x
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Every day that passes the piece of string gets shorter.
Hold onto that.
Love you
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