Trying to get used to my soon new ‘home’

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I’m sitting on the ground in my soon to become house. I stare outside out of one of my windows. Can I get used to this place? Will this feel like my own place? But I don’t know.

Others seem to be more excited and happy about it. I know this is not ‘the place’. I don’t have an outside, I live in the city.

In my heart, I know that this is not where I want to live ‘forever’. Yet I move here.

Because sometimes you have to step in between, if the jump is too big.

Well, I don’t know. It’s just weird. I don’t know why I find moving so weird. But going into a new place, dropping in just like that, is just weird to me.

 

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Breathing in and breathing out

I’m cold, alone. I’m just a person on my own. Nothing means a thing to me, oh nothing means a thing to me.

But how can it hurt when nothing means a thing? That’s just how I feel. It’s just how I feel.
That was how I felt. Just how it felt. That was yesterday, and now it’s time to move on.

I’m “busy” with preparations for ‘the move’.
I want to do it slowly and peaceful, because I have a hard time hanging on to life.

But, of course, I don’t get this space. Others pulling at me and trying to decide my schedule. I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF THIS.
They don’t understand depression. They don’t understand apathy. They don’t give me the space. They don’t listen. It’s my life. My place. My move. it’s MINE.

But it doesn’t look like that. I can’t fight it, I’m too tired. Everyone has opinions about how I should do it and when and whatever.

. My opinion doesn’t matter. My schedule doesn’t matter. My pace doesn’t matter. My peace of mind appearantly doesn’t matter. And so on, and on. And with all these things, I cant help myself but get the message that I do not matter.

I’m glad I will move, and live on a distance from all those people. All I wanted is this to be a nice proces. BUt it’s taken from me. Taken like so much more.

I can’t talk about it. They don’t understand. We will get a fight.

I’m tired. I’m sick of this. Angry too.

I feel like i want to dissapear.

Just be a void, float in the air, emptiness hurts, a void can hurt too, but some moments I so badly wish I could float in nothingness. Makes sense right?

Going to move.

So. It seems like, I’m going to move. Like in, going to live on my own again.

Quite faster than expected I came aware of a small appartment. I heard. Within a few hours I saw it. Within a day I had to decide. And now the contract is almost ready. And the keys. And the moment to pay.

I’ll move into the city. The first two months alone. Then my love will come – something that gives me a peace of mind, because together things are easier and there is someone to stop my worries and feelings of super-insecurity. Or maybe it’s that I’m anxious. Could be. I am not sure of anything anymore.

I am worried. Worried if I can really afford this. It’s not cheap, but I should be able to afford it. It’s just a big risk, somehow. And – Can I really live in the city – a place where every inch or centimeter seems to count, and a lot of people want to be (how can there, be place for me?). I just want space, peace, a place where I can be….not the place where everyone wants to be or fight for. Will I not become a total recluse? Fall in to the gaps of loneliness and depression?

Yet I know it will be allright, I mean love will move in with me in just a few months. Together we will manage. She keeps me on track. Life is nicer with her around. Like really, it makes sense and I worry less. I’m motivated more. Alone, it doesn’t matter at all.

But a place where you live. It’s so important to me. A place where you can withdraw from the world, that’s really yours, and where you can be yourself. But what if you can’t get used to it, or it doesn’t feel right in the end? Because in the end it’s not really really yours. Does it matter, I ask myself? Does it really, really matter?

This move is the right one to make. I know it’s the right thing to do. Yet I don’t understand why it feels so … I don’t know. I can’t be happy yet. All I can think of is how difficult it is to lead a life, and try to lead a normal one. It’s heavy. No more, no less.

It’s the sad of joy

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Walking through the storm, when everyone’s inside

and you know that step by step

you’ll get closer to the end

 

because

it doesn’t really matter which road you take:

they all lead to the same point.
Can you face the truth?

Can I face the truth?

Step by step, moving on.

Moving on, to the still.

 

Can you imagine, what it’s like?

When the mind that captures your soul

And your sould captures your mind.

 

Memories are flashbacks of the future

And tears are the drops of the rain

and steps are the sprints to the finish line,

the complete nothingness,

What else could you do?

On the outside

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Thick glass, but the sky is already dark

nothing can break this

decent distance,

and life is playing on the other side of this invisible screen

but it seperates me, and it seperates them.
There are not taxis on the streets,

nevertheless it seems crowded,

people with hats and umbrellas

finding their way and moving on the pavement

 

All I do

stand here, observe

because I can’t be

part of this world.

Keep on moving

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Even if it’s officially still winter, the weather finally was ‘better’ (means no pouring rain, ice, snow and things of such a kind), and I went out of the first ride of the year. There was a lot of wind though. I’ve been wanting to go for a ride since a couple of days, but stupid things kept me from it.

“People will watch at you and think you’re childish and it’s not cool for a woman of 31 to go longboarding and especially not when you’re not so good and you will look rediculous ……and so on and on and on”

So, somehow what other people think of me does bother me, while I know it shouldn’t. But still, this is hard to erase out of your system. At least, in my experience.

When you are like me in a kind of way, I guess, and you have so much difficulties to be part of this world, somehow it’s a bit important that you are accepted in some kind of way. These kind of things can kill something in your soul, as far what’s exactly left of that.

Anyway, there’s a place nearby, where I can use a road where no traffic is. It’s not a very very good road – cracks and lots of wood and stones around, just a small part is asphalt that is supernice to ride. But it’s a bit out of sight, surrounded by trees, and there are not so much people coming there >> big plus for this. They are there are though- people who walk their dogs. Unfortunately you always have to watch out for dogpoop (gross, really – is it so hard to clean up or make sure your dog poop off the road?). That’s a really not cool thing of the place, but so far it’s the best place for me to ride.

The sun was shining, so I took my board and walked to the place. Took my mp3 player as well, since I found a new song which I seem to like a lot (Sia’s Elastic Heart ) and which I can’t stop listening.

and i know that i can survive
i’ll walk through fire to save my life

I cruised around for a minute or 40, and I guess that was a maximum for me. I’m not in shape, and it’s hard to keep moving sometimes – to go out is already an adventure. There was also so much wind.

For the last couple of weeks, I tried to stick with at least 2 times walking in a week, to improve my condition and for my ‘future plans’ if you can call it like that. I would like to go on adventure races and trail running and do much more outdoor sports. I wish I lived in/nearby the mountains.

Last week was the first week I didn’t make it- I did one walk but one other day I cycled, so maybe that ‘counts’. I’m still not save, my mood fluctuates up and down, and I find it hard to find purpose on some days and find things to keep myself busy now.

This week I haven’t walked yet, but I made my first longboard ride. And today, I hope to make the second one.

Free, but trapped.

(Or should I say trapped, but free?)

Yesterday, I had a short conversation about this with someone. It’s something that I find very difficult and maybe what I’m going to write now isn’t making any sense at all. There’s one sentence that struck me in particular:

“you know, you keep saying you’re stuck, and I know that’s how you feel. But somehow you are more free than anyone I know”

I seem to be free. I don’t have a job, I don’t have a house, I don’t have a family, I have nothing much that ‘restricts’ me in a certain way: if I don’t get up, things will not fall apart, I will not be missed very badly, nor will much people even notice.

So, I seem to be free. I seem to be free, but I can’t seem to use it, I can’t seem to feel it, I can’t seem to see it. I don’t.

Because a lot of days, are full of emptiness. Are full of uselessness, of the lack of purpose. There is nothing much that keeps me going really, there is nothing that waits for me, nothing that needs me. The world is a place where there isn’t just space for everyone; literally maybe yes, but not in the world of jobs, income, and with this, the right to live, because this is how i see it – to not have these things, with the current system of how the world works, affect this – the right to live , because the way I see it it’s that it’s so difficult and hard to live in these circumstances, that I don’t want to call that a life.

And yet this whole thing is something you can see in many perspectives. A lot of people do not think my life is so bad – “but at least you don’t have a family” , “at least you have a bed to sleep in” or “at least you have food”.

So if you are alone, (which is already more difficult, because you have less support and everything is more expensive and you have nothing to fall back on, because you will have to fix everything yourself), it’s not so bad? So if you have a family, to care for, that’s worse than rot away when you’re alone? THis is really making me angry sometimes, and I want to scream: BUT AT LEAST THEY HAVE EACH OTHER. But I don’t. I keep silent.

At least you have a bed to sleep in – what the fuck does this bed change when you feel so down and there is no purpose? Want to have my bed? fine, take it, I’ll sleep on the floor, whatever.

At least you have food? Fuck this food, it keeps my physically alive, but then the rest? And all this food is full of added crap, chemicals, whatever. You want to have the food? Fine, take it.

*now-back-to-less-angry-mode*

There are these moments, like now, how I realize how messed up (my) life is. How stuck I am and can;t get out. How I do not see possibilities anymore, ways to try.

Why should anyone give me a job? Why should anyone see something in me?

What future do I have to look forward to? Why would anyone help me out?

Am I to blame? Do I try to less? I had years of therapy, I saw different psychologists, I tried medication, I tried to finish a study, I did, I always worked, but after I graduated things fell apart. Can someone please tell me why I keep failing, what I do wrong, what is wrong with me? Because I don’t understand it anymore.

I seem to have a lot of possibilities, of choices, of so called ‘freedom’.

Yet, I feel a lot of pressure and judging minds about my situation. Every step is a marathon. Trying to find a job? There’s so much pressure and stuff to ‘explain’. Benefits? They are going to control my life and I will die even more inside.

Something has to be wrong with me, because I dont even have benefits. Something has to be wrong with me, because I don’t work for so long now.Something has to be wrong with me, because I can’t live on my own and I live in family’s house. Something has to be wrong with me, because I don’t get life nor do I understand the system. Something has to be wrong, because I can’t live like this.

Freedom. I can’t do whatever whenever I want.

So called freedom.