Three Fucking Years here
I've not been at all well physically today. Neither mentally. Three Fucking Years here to the day. I'm absolutely trapped and all I want to do is move away. I hate it. All my things in the wrong home. If I could still drive I'd have just got into my car and gone. I've lived in Eighteen different places, three of which were completely isolated which suits me down to the ground. There's no childhood house I think of as 'home' but I did love growing up in Matlock town on the edge of the moors - before as always we bloody moved. Three Fucking Years here and I often find myself feeling physically sick at the thought. I want to move