Tears were flowing at about about a gallon a second and it was in that moment that I was really thankful i saved the Wendy's napkins from lunch so I could blow my nose. Sobbing as the waste basket by my bed continues to fill with snotty yellow napkins. This wasn't how I pictured my night going when I woke up this morning...
...then again waking up wasn't exactly an easy task in itself.
Its been quite a while since my last post, and a lot has changed.For starters, everything around me. According to plan we moved out of our apartment earlier this month and in with John's family (a.k.a. the mad house). Unfortunately, this "mad house" seems to be our best option. At this point we are in a position where are expenses are minimal so are savings can expand,and we can relocated and avoid starvation and homelessness in the process. But with these sacrifices being made I still feel homeless in a way, because this place is soo far from my definition of home. I wish I could explain what its like here with out possibly offending someone who might read these words in the future. But I can't. So I won't.
But I will say, if you're imagining some type of third layer of hell scenario you can definitely scale it back a bit. Its not that bad, it's just not that good. I'm just trying to adjust to being completely out of my element... find my world again in this foreign place. I guess I just let all the negativity get to me. I try to cling on to my positive thoughts for dear life and sometimes it just feels like the littlest things come to snatch them away. Like bickering with my husband for instance. The smallest rift tears me apart. He's my only sense of home, my only sense of security. Its when we let the little thing get between us, that's when I feel homeless. Like a nomad.
BUT, its only been two weeks. I'm still adjusting, finding my groove, my peace of mind. I can make this a positive experience or I make this my prison, I know its my choice.
It's MY choice.
