I will not replay my sob story, but I am in a new home. It doesn't feel like my home, because it is not. It is another's home. A couple, who despite this being a new home to them, have allowed me to rent a room. Now let's be clear, the room is not a cell. It is not like the place where I was over a week ago. There is no knock on the door from housekeeping, nor is there a revolving door of neighbors. There are constants. That alone should give me comfort and yet it does not.
My insomnia has returned, but I've also slept better than in the past. I am comfortable walking to the kitchen in my underwear, but uncomfortable in my own skin. I feel a weight lifted from my chest, but know it's only been lifted, not removed. My days, oddly, haven't changed, other than the hours in which I do things. I went from being one schedule to another. The only difference is that this one is personal courtesy and at the end of the day, it is my choice.
Over the last few weeks, I've been told "It'll get better," "Things will work out," and "I'm praying for you." All kind words, which blow by me like the air from an oscillating fan. They comfort and console me and then they are gone, the next wave, never far behind. They say we control our own destiny, but I've learned over the years, we only control our selfish acts. We have absolutely no control over the actions of others or nature, and yes, I know, that is called life.
I think where the anxiety, depression and overall uncertainty comes from knowing this place isn't permanent. Most likely, I won't even be here when 2018 rolls around, but the real question is, where will I be? What could possibly happen in six month that the last decade and a half of misfortune, bad choices and lackadaisical approach towards life will be reversed? I'm trying so hard to set up a safety net, while others set up their nest eggs. I tried to accept and appreciate what I have and you know what? I do. I realize every day and I'm reminded even more, that it could be worse, but there lies another of life's lessons. "It could be worse," doesn't make it better. It just makes us appreciate less, set the bar lower and accept our fate.
The irony is, I don't want more than I have. I just want it without the constant fear of losing it. I want shelter, food and protection from the elements. I want a connection that doesn't need to be plugged in. I want to wake up in the morning, without spending most of the day worrying about tomorrow. I don't want riches or things to distract me, I just want a life without worry. I want to wake up one morning and think, this is MY home, for as long as I wish it to be. Isn't that life too?
My insomnia has returned, but I've also slept better than in the past. I am comfortable walking to the kitchen in my underwear, but uncomfortable in my own skin. I feel a weight lifted from my chest, but know it's only been lifted, not removed. My days, oddly, haven't changed, other than the hours in which I do things. I went from being one schedule to another. The only difference is that this one is personal courtesy and at the end of the day, it is my choice.
Over the last few weeks, I've been told "It'll get better," "Things will work out," and "I'm praying for you." All kind words, which blow by me like the air from an oscillating fan. They comfort and console me and then they are gone, the next wave, never far behind. They say we control our own destiny, but I've learned over the years, we only control our selfish acts. We have absolutely no control over the actions of others or nature, and yes, I know, that is called life.
I think where the anxiety, depression and overall uncertainty comes from knowing this place isn't permanent. Most likely, I won't even be here when 2018 rolls around, but the real question is, where will I be? What could possibly happen in six month that the last decade and a half of misfortune, bad choices and lackadaisical approach towards life will be reversed? I'm trying so hard to set up a safety net, while others set up their nest eggs. I tried to accept and appreciate what I have and you know what? I do. I realize every day and I'm reminded even more, that it could be worse, but there lies another of life's lessons. "It could be worse," doesn't make it better. It just makes us appreciate less, set the bar lower and accept our fate.
The irony is, I don't want more than I have. I just want it without the constant fear of losing it. I want shelter, food and protection from the elements. I want a connection that doesn't need to be plugged in. I want to wake up in the morning, without spending most of the day worrying about tomorrow. I don't want riches or things to distract me, I just want a life without worry. I want to wake up one morning and think, this is MY home, for as long as I wish it to be. Isn't that life too?
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