I haven’t blogged in a while, I’ve actually been quite busy, but I notice if I don’t write down what’s going on, on here or in a book, after a while it starts to effect me. Recently I will try to spark a conversation and find someone’s seen it on Facebook, or I may have told them a couple of days ago and forgot.
A couple of years ago before I seeked help, I led a path of destruction on social media, without realizing or knowing it, a collection of messages were kept and used against me. At one point I got really cautious and stopped posting personal stuff then things gradually built up again.
Now it feels like it’s happening again. I don’t get chance to explain myself, if I do its seen as excuses, some in fairness perhaps are, a bad habit I picked up because people didn’t want the truth. Now it’s happening again. Nothing is secret and although its keeping others informed, it makes me feel like I’m being spied on and not trusted again. Some of this is building up to how I’m feeling and I know I’m making too much of a big of a deal out of it, but I’ve come along way and still continue on working through things. The thing is I don’t live with anyone, I work full time and go to book club and see friends as much as I can, that means I generally have loads to tell people, genrally waffle but its good to chat.
At the moment I am working on building my memory back up. The pile of notebooks get bigger, the filofax is hardly from my side and now I have google calendar which is taking ages to get used to. So I might just make memory books and keep them for myself and not bother telling anyone anything as they would prefer to find it of fb or someone else.
Hello! I’m over here! Yes we all make the mistake of relying on text based messages instead of ringng. we check fb instead of texting or ringing or going round to that persons house. We don’t communicate clearly anymore and we need to.
So for now I’m disappearing of social media and concentrating on other things.
Thank you for reading
In October of this year it will be 5 years of moving into this house and living on my own. Up until then I had always been surrounded by people, from my parents and sister to fellow students to a now ex boyfriend. Never did I think I would be alone, and when I first moved in here I didn’t think about cost of bills, or running a house on my own. It hasn’t been an easy ride. There were several reasons for moving into this house, one being familiarity, after 6 years in a back to back it didn’t seem to far from home, but looking back I wonder whether I should have waited and gone for something smaller or with two entrances, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. For ages I didn’t feel like it was home, stuff sat in boxes and I didn’t really unpack, I just bought more junk in.
I can still remember the first week of moving in. no sound, no one else in here, there’s no door to the kitchen and for ages I thought I could hear a door creak. I would come in after work switch the telly on so there was noise and then just waste the evening not sure what to do. At one point I couldn’t be in the house and stayed away and then I needed to be realisitc and tried to keep busy, mainly wasting time on the internet.
Then the following year everything changed. A friend suggested going to book club as I like reading. I went to World Book Night and found out about Leeds Book Club and you know the story from there. I also completed my first 10k. After only running for a few weeks and raised money for charity. Things kept changing and by 2014 it felt like everything was falling apart again, I started looking for other places to live but it would have mean’t living with others. Downsizing to something like the size of a single bedroom, with damp in bathrooms, small self in a fridge. I looked at so many places but I just could not bring myself to do it.
In the end because I lost my job I ended up staying put. I had a thought about moving back up north but things weren’t to great at home, I never got on with my Dad and the following year he finally left my Mum. I asked a dear friend if I could move in with them if it got worse. But in the end I had managed to get a job quite quickly, although temporary it helped. That’s when I ended up at the coffee shop. The one constant thing that stayed the same was the house. the walls, the furniture inside it is mine, I have way too many cushions, I can leave clothes on the floor and no one complains. I can do what I want. I can sit in silence or play music, I have plenty of room to hang washing out. It’s my home. And it will sound silly, but its the one thing protecting me that I’m finally feeling like I can settle. And no its not because I’m to lazy to move, I just have loads of junk to get rid of from past 10 years and change can have a big effect on you especially when so much else is going on.
So for now while I continue to ‘fix’ myself and work out what I want to do, I’m staying put, enjoying the comforts it brings and trying to read and work whilst sorting out the rubbish.
Thankyou for reading