(no subject)
today's the day to admit that there's been a shift in my body, and now there are more anxious days than not, that bright and frantic bird in my ribcage, compressing my lungs, beating against my heart, keeping me wide eyed at bedtime. not like it's surprising that this disorder i live with in good times would be more potent in these last few months, more present, but i gotta note it to myself, it's the fucking least i can do. i'm not in crisis, this volume is just too much for me and many others.
shelter life is wild, rewarding and terrible in every single fucking moment. like unimaginable.
there was a moment in early april that echoed that moment with brandi in oakland when jason let the kitchen catch on fire and i saw the look in her eyes and knew i had to move, there were no literal fires this time just a moment on my bed realizing the humiliation of nearing 40 and living with idiot roommates. and then the next fucking morning i woke up and listened to my neighboring roommate scream at their girlfriend to get the fuck out of the house, they would call the cops, get the fuck out. then six hours later they were watching drag race together!?! so i started looking and had some hope and then went for this tiny 1 bedroom on the west side with a big shared yard and some sweet old features. it's officially mine and i will see the interior for the first time when i move in on 6/6, fingers fucking crossed. yesterday the roommate and girlfriend fought again, then must have resolved it today again. listening to couples argue is maybe the worst thing, the soundtrack to my childhood home. also bad: sharing the kitchen with disgusting sprawling dummies, being the responsible one who takes out the trash, other stuff that i have to escape but the fighting is the only actual trauma trigger.
i did at least tour the exterior of the new place, the yard seems so lovely and the lilac bushes are as big as my current bedroom. here's to hoping for better times.
shelter life is wild, rewarding and terrible in every single fucking moment. like unimaginable.
there was a moment in early april that echoed that moment with brandi in oakland when jason let the kitchen catch on fire and i saw the look in her eyes and knew i had to move, there were no literal fires this time just a moment on my bed realizing the humiliation of nearing 40 and living with idiot roommates. and then the next fucking morning i woke up and listened to my neighboring roommate scream at their girlfriend to get the fuck out of the house, they would call the cops, get the fuck out. then six hours later they were watching drag race together!?! so i started looking and had some hope and then went for this tiny 1 bedroom on the west side with a big shared yard and some sweet old features. it's officially mine and i will see the interior for the first time when i move in on 6/6, fingers fucking crossed. yesterday the roommate and girlfriend fought again, then must have resolved it today again. listening to couples argue is maybe the worst thing, the soundtrack to my childhood home. also bad: sharing the kitchen with disgusting sprawling dummies, being the responsible one who takes out the trash, other stuff that i have to escape but the fighting is the only actual trauma trigger.
i did at least tour the exterior of the new place, the yard seems so lovely and the lilac bushes are as big as my current bedroom. here's to hoping for better times.