~A Bitter Swallow~

I think I thought-vomited in my brain a little bit...

Thought-Vomit

My brain is constantly mumbling and muttering to itself. Sometimes it screams. Sometimes what it has to say is interesting enough to make note of, or is adamant enough that it must come out. I'll put that stuff here. :)
Tuesday, February 18, 2020

I'm Not Okay

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Wednesday, February 5, 2020

Home


"Home" is something I've been thinking about a lot lately.  I've finally moved out of the old place.  Most of our stuff is currently residing in a storage unit.  My son is staying with his dad.  My daughter and I are sharing a room at a friend's house.  My whole feeling of "home" has been torn asunder, and I find myself grasping for ways to reclaim that feeling.  That feeling has always been fleeting to begin with, but now it's just gone.

Dictionary.com defines "home" as:
1. A house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, household.
2. The place in which one's domestic affections are carried out.

With this, I suppose I do have a home at my friends' house.  It is my shelter.  It is where I go after work.  Where I sleep.  But that isn't what makes a home.  "Home" is more of a feeling- somewhere where you are at peace, where you feel you belong. This feeling of home is what I'm lacking.

Don't get me wrong-  my friends are fucking amazing, and I am beyond grateful that they offered us a place to go to get our feet back under us for awhile again.   But it's their space and their things -not mine.  The walls are infused with their story, their lives, their love.  Not mine. I feel welcome here, yes. They go above and beyond with that.  It's just not my home, and the fact that I'm 43 years old and yet again do not have a place to feel that is making me crack inside.  It's tearing me on so many levels that I sometimes cannot stand it anymore. I have no feeling of belonging anywhere.  Where is my home?  Where is my kids' home? 

Where do I belong?



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