Straight from the heart: 25. Displacement
This house, which was once my home, has (I hope) been sold today. It marks the end of an era. An end to a large chapter of my life. And the beginning of feelings of displacement, as I search for a new place to call ‘home’.
When I bought this house 12 and half years ago, it was a time when my relationship had felt secure; and I was willing to make a financial commitment, with the man that became my husband. Up until that point I had been completely independent, having already owned two previous homes, and coped very well on my own, thank you. But somehow, it seemed like the next most natural step, it had felt like the right thing to do, at the time.
After his children left to live with their mum, my ex, all but moved in with me, even though he had his own place still. It wasn’t at my request that he moved in, he’d just decided he didn’t want to be on his own, in his own home any more. And that was it, he never left.
It became time to move on again, and that’s when I found this place. This house talked to me, from the moment I saw it from outside, before I had even knocked on the door. I knew that I had found the right place. As I walked round on my first viewing, I had already pictured how I was going to put love back into this house. It had been lonely for too long, with it’s single occupant, who had been here since the day it was built. She had got married, raised a family and was eventually left alone for years, until her son decided to look after her. I did a lot for her before the final day; and I always thought that she seemed happy to be selling her home on to me. Almost as if she knew I would indeed continue to take care of it.
And that’s just what I did. However, I think I did a bit more than she might have anticipated!
We both planned and designed our home, but decor and furnishings etc, were my department. All my furniture, bar the essentials were put in storage, and within 6 months of roughing it; all building works were completed, the house was completely renovated, extended, re-arranged and bought up to date. It was a tough six months, of sleeping rough, being cold and having no kitchen to speak of. While this was going on, my ex still had his house, and was able to avoid most of the discomfort, I had to endure. But, it was done. I worked hard on making this house, our home, my home, transforming it over the years, until it became what it is now.
It wasn’t long before my concerns for my financial security were proved right, I had made a mistake. A big mistake. And there was nothing I could do about it, except to bide my time, watch, listen and learn. In the end, it proved to be a very expensive mistake, and I have since spent a long time contemplating it. I could have taken action or fought for it, but decided it just wasn’t worth it. Money has never been my king, so I opted for the peaceful process, which proved just as painful. But anyway, long story, short, I got my fingers severely burnt!
Bear in mind, that I had been separated from ex since Oct 2012, he had initially said he would leave, but due to circumstances we’ve had to share the same roof space. And still do to this day, which has not been easy by any definition, the last 15 months being possibly the worst of my life.
I have digressed a little, but I suppose the point I am trying to make is that, there were a lot of ‘beginnings’, and ‘endings’ in this house. These walls have witnessed and absorbed so much of my life. It echoes my unhappiness when I am here on my own. My home, for the last 15months, became two rooms, my bedroom and my ‘snug’, I have given up on using the rest of the house, unless it’s necessary. My snug is where my world happens, it is my place of peace, calmness, inspiration, creativity, imagination and so on. My snug is, ‘MY’ space. My bedroom, is for rest, rejuvenation and quiet times, or for when I want to feel music in me. Both spaces are my sanctuaries. no stress is allowed across either of these rooms’ thresholds.
But going back, it was the first time I had ever properly lived with someone, actually shared a life. At the beginning, we both has so many hopes and dreams about our future, as it was back then. We have shared some precious moments here, there have been many occasions when we have created memories, on our own or with other people. There was once love here, but that too has since evaporated, dissipated into thin air, like all other kind feelings, and nice thoughts. Now I am reminded of arguments, discussions, conversations, tears and so on, as I go from room to room.
This house, is also the place, where I first seriously became ill, and continue to be so, this is the place where my world fell apart, and bad health became a constant companion. I had aways thought having the hospital so close by, was a good thing. But I didn’t appreciate just how much time I would get to spend there, for one reason or another. As my health deteriorated, and so did everything else.
But I loved this house, it was ‘me’ all over. But since things went wrong, I have come to see that I need to create a new home, somewhere else, another place where I can start my dreams and hopes afresh. This house is the only thing that still binds us together, mentally and emotionally, I left this place a long time ago, now I need to physically follow it through
In the last few years, this house has seen so much anger, resentment, bitterness, bereavement, and the true colours of our individual rainbows. It has seen the end of many things, and now the planning stages of new horizons.
It is time now for someone else to love it.
(16th January 2015)
Link to: Turned to stone
On the whole, it was the best thing I could ever have done. I am not one to generally walk away, but this time it was about saving my own life from an inevitable misery that laid ahead. Now, I am a happy person. Now, I have a stress-free life, unless it’s brought to my door like bunches of flowers or via the telephone line…
It’s been nearly 4 and a half years since I moved on, and the place I found (by luck more than anything), has become my home and sanctuary. I had many battles to fight along the way, with my physical, emotional and mental health. As well as a mountain of excess baggage, I desperately needed to off load. But, I got here in the end, and feel a hell of better for it.
It took me a long time, to deal with the fallout of everything that had happened in the last 4/5 years. It took me much longer than I had expected to fully heal and repair myself, after all it was a traumatic experience. There are pieces from that past, that are still wedged into me. These fragments will be reawakened from time to time, when triggered by someone’s words or behaviour toward me. I have a very quick flinch response in that respect.
It’s a fact I can’t help, but it serves to protect my fragile heart and feelings, because I absolutely refuse to ever walk down that same path or road again.
It may well have ruined me, in a way that I find it difficult to visualise living with another man again. Ruined me to the point, I don’t know if I will ever trust another man; and always look at actions and behaviour, more than whatever words he may say.
I feel something inside of me has hardened. I’ve a much sturdier shell than before, to deflect as much negativity as I can. I have a different mindset. I am less tolerant and more vocal about not accepting bad behaviour and manners. But most of all I try to live the life I often speak of.
I am still very soft within, but that part of me is now slightly harder to reach. Sx❤️
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