Storage booked. Friend promised to help me move. Bags packed. Boxes dragged in. Wardrobes empty and the rest of my clothes on the floor.
I am finally taking my life into my own hands and moving out of this hellhole. The past two and a half years in my lovely little cheap room in a shared apartment have been both nice in that I have been able to settle into this room, but horrible because we had major arguments and altercations with the landlord who then proceeded to evict us. Court hearings, paperwork, lots of arguments and fights and confusion later I am ready to leave!
I have decided to move out, put my stuff into storage and .. who knows?! I will be homeless when I come back from my three-week US trip but…who the hell cares?! I don’t. I don’t even think about it, to be honest.
I am scared of the changes. I am scared of not being in therapy. Not having that someone who HAS to listen to you for 50 minutes at a time, no matter what. Even if I chose to stay silent, he’d still have to be there. I am so sad it’s coming to an end, it really is giving me heartache and pain in my soul.
I am scared of moving out. I have lived here for so long! I have hated the arguments and it’s given me so so so much anxiety, but I have loved my little room, my home, my stuff in their own places and knowing I have somewhere safe to go home to. I will miss my room so so so much!! It is making me sad to leave even though it’s my decision!
Maybe I won’t quit my job just yet. Ending of intensive therapy, moving out of my home, the court cases and arguments…that’s big enough as it is! I should try to hold on to something familiar….I am afraid otherwise I’ll lose it completely if I don’t have anything to hold on to.
I do want to go travelling. We shall see what happens.
Just my thoughts today. So much sadness in my heart.