Day One of the rest of my life
From the Spiral of Journan-ness till my comps up again -
4/6 - 12:43 am
There are still moments where I think I'm going to wake up and this will have been a part of a very elaborate and vivid dream, like those I've been having lately. It still feels so new and unknown and foreign, like living inside a skin that isn't mine. Sometimes I think I'm going to wake up and others break down. I almost burst into tears a small handful of times as the realism of this finally hits me like a ton of solid gold bricks on my chest, stealing my air, my control and my sanity. In that dark I know this is not my place of comfort. This is not my home. But I keep telling myself that it will be. It's smaller in this room and it'll be a little more cramped than I'm used to, but it's mine. My own private front door. My own bathroom. My bed room. And yet nothing feels like it's mine at all. Not this room even with my boxes stacked inside of it and my so far sparce furniture sitting inside it. Nothing feels mine but my body and for the first time in almost twenty years I have nothing I can call home. I am alone on this floor writing, on a carpet that this feels plush and new, bright gray, bright against my palidness, with white white walls, that blanch my existance. I am alone here on this floor writing. He's at work and I just put her to bed. I am alone inside this body, this pale and fragile skin, a wavering flicker in the darkness. All alone.
All alone
Far from home
Tears like rain
Waves of pain
I have to find a new way
Have to make it to the next day
I'm so small and scared
So brave and unprepared
Don't know how to give up, give in,
How to fight, to lose, to win.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This weekend was a barage of a million things as I try to keep all my strings tied at once. Friday night we unpacked the room in Sabrina's apartment that woudl be mine. All my crats saw the site on Saturday and seem to think it'll work. After that we moved into the apartment all my boxes that I'd packed and anything that could be taken off walls, stacked, picked up and carried. Sunday was early afternoon was Qualls to get my large check for my event, while late afternoon and evening was getting to move my bed and some smaller furniture.
So it's the morning after the first night in my new home. And to tell the truth it wasn't that bad. Sure for a while I lost the ability to speak and and see for a bit, but their are ahandful of friends who woudl be overjoyed to know I broke down and started crying off and on for about twenty minutes on my bed of blue.
To tell the truth I'm slightly glad no one was there. I know he would have tried to make me feel better. She would have, too, if she'd known I was crying a room away, with my back on the wall, but maybe for the moment it's okay. It was my first night, and it was the first time in almost seven weeks I stopped enough to say 'no, it's not okay and no one can fix it' but that I'd be okay at some point.
My bed is all built and blue. My bathrooms is -as of this morning- completely unpacked. My bed table has stuff scattered across it. I'm hoping to remember to get wall tacks tonight so I can put some stuff on my walls already. At least the stuff over the head of my bed and the oval mirror on my private bathroom door. Really want to reopen the mirror.
This afternoon my register so far is to:
Deposit the Amt check
Get my car (hope, hope)
Go out to Boerne/look for James
Go to Mom's - break down wire shelves and the huge sterio, vacuum, move garage furniture
I'm thinking if things don't end up hugely hectic tonight I'd like to aim Brina and myself at unpacking the kitchen before we go to bed. I don't think it'd be a huge task if we did it together.
Tomorrow is the moving truck and all the furniture, then a little more breathing room while everything is set up. I'm hoping that maybe once this is over there will be breathing room until the event. Nothing more drastic till then. Maybe. Just maybe.
Not crossing my fingers...but you know I have a habbit of being just a little too optimistic anyway.
4/6 - 12:43 am
There are still moments where I think I'm going to wake up and this will have been a part of a very elaborate and vivid dream, like those I've been having lately. It still feels so new and unknown and foreign, like living inside a skin that isn't mine. Sometimes I think I'm going to wake up and others break down. I almost burst into tears a small handful of times as the realism of this finally hits me like a ton of solid gold bricks on my chest, stealing my air, my control and my sanity. In that dark I know this is not my place of comfort. This is not my home. But I keep telling myself that it will be. It's smaller in this room and it'll be a little more cramped than I'm used to, but it's mine. My own private front door. My own bathroom. My bed room. And yet nothing feels like it's mine at all. Not this room even with my boxes stacked inside of it and my so far sparce furniture sitting inside it. Nothing feels mine but my body and for the first time in almost twenty years I have nothing I can call home. I am alone on this floor writing, on a carpet that this feels plush and new, bright gray, bright against my palidness, with white white walls, that blanch my existance. I am alone here on this floor writing. He's at work and I just put her to bed. I am alone inside this body, this pale and fragile skin, a wavering flicker in the darkness. All alone.
All alone
Far from home
Tears like rain
Waves of pain
I have to find a new way
Have to make it to the next day
I'm so small and scared
So brave and unprepared
Don't know how to give up, give in,
How to fight, to lose, to win.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This weekend was a barage of a million things as I try to keep all my strings tied at once. Friday night we unpacked the room in Sabrina's apartment that woudl be mine. All my crats saw the site on Saturday and seem to think it'll work. After that we moved into the apartment all my boxes that I'd packed and anything that could be taken off walls, stacked, picked up and carried. Sunday was early afternoon was Qualls to get my large check for my event, while late afternoon and evening was getting to move my bed and some smaller furniture.
So it's the morning after the first night in my new home. And to tell the truth it wasn't that bad. Sure for a while I lost the ability to speak and and see for a bit, but their are ahandful of friends who woudl be overjoyed to know I broke down and started crying off and on for about twenty minutes on my bed of blue.
To tell the truth I'm slightly glad no one was there. I know he would have tried to make me feel better. She would have, too, if she'd known I was crying a room away, with my back on the wall, but maybe for the moment it's okay. It was my first night, and it was the first time in almost seven weeks I stopped enough to say 'no, it's not okay and no one can fix it' but that I'd be okay at some point.
My bed is all built and blue. My bathrooms is -as of this morning- completely unpacked. My bed table has stuff scattered across it. I'm hoping to remember to get wall tacks tonight so I can put some stuff on my walls already. At least the stuff over the head of my bed and the oval mirror on my private bathroom door. Really want to reopen the mirror.
This afternoon my register so far is to:
Deposit the Amt check
Get my car (hope, hope)
Go out to Boerne/look for James
Go to Mom's - break down wire shelves and the huge sterio, vacuum, move garage furniture
I'm thinking if things don't end up hugely hectic tonight I'd like to aim Brina and myself at unpacking the kitchen before we go to bed. I don't think it'd be a huge task if we did it together.
Tomorrow is the moving truck and all the furniture, then a little more breathing room while everything is set up. I'm hoping that maybe once this is over there will be breathing room until the event. Nothing more drastic till then. Maybe. Just maybe.
Not crossing my fingers...but you know I have a habbit of being just a little too optimistic anyway.