Farewell to Peace. Farewell to peace of mind.

I go home today. 

In the past nearly-two-weeks:

• I have slept easy.
• I have eaten what I liked and not had to worry about the cooking odors bothering anyone.
• I have come and gone with my life and schedule and not had to document any of it for anyone.
• I have been able to use anything that I like without having to worry about whether or not someone else might have an opinion about it.
• I have been able to work on my sculpture with no hindrance or anything that would get in the way of actually doing the work.
• I have taken breaks and visited with old friends who are not welcome at the place where I live.
• I have not experienced one, single panic attack or headache.

In the past nearly-two-weeks:

• No one has yelled at me.
• No one has given me mean and/or dirty looks.
• No one has ridiculed, demeaned, criticized, or embarrassed me.
• No one has threatened me.

I have experienced peacefulness and fun and just plain relaxation in a way that I have not for decades and I did not even know that I was missing it, did not know that it was gone, did not know that such things still existed.

I do miss my cats and have seen them only once during this time.  Fortunately there is a lovely cat here who has helped me avoid wonderful-kitty withdrawal, but it is still not the same, you know?

I have learned that I am not thrilled with climbing and descending twenty-six steps several times a day, but I know that I can easily and happily live in a one-room apartment and even work in this kind of intimate space.

One moment I think that I simply cannot go back and live in that other place, and the next I know that I can because I now understand that, with adequate resources I could live in this kind of space if I wanted to.  It is no longer 'if I had to', but if I choose to make the changes that I should be making in my life but am too chicken to actually do, change, choose, whatever the hell I should or could do.  I have not wept once during this nearly-two-weeks and, here I am, crying whilst writing this.  I knew that today would be sad, so I packed my crap yesterday and, except for what I needed last night and this morning, it is all waiting for me near the hoist bin, ready to be loaded, lowered and put in my car when I get the call that my friend is back and is ready for me to fetch her.

She is going to be thrilled to be home and I am equally thrilled to have her safely home.  Her cat misses her, as do I.  So, I get to go home today.  I am just not certain what home means any more.