The day before yesterday, 29th August was the 3 year anniversary when my life imploded, homelessness quickly followed by breakdown and the seemingly never-ending disasters in between.
I don’t always have the clarity to remember all the events as such, but felt the wounds deeply, it was not only loss of home, my peace of mind, more keenly the loss of confidence, faith, friendships and lastly self.
As I lay down crushed by the weight of what had befallen me, mixed with the knowledge that I was also responsible in large part, I didn’t think that I’d still be here to tell the tale, over and over it seems.
It is said that time heals, perhaps that’s true, I feel that we learn to live with circumstances, incidents grief, but we don’t really get over them, as they serve as a reminder of what life was, and our continual struggle not to go back to that place and keep forging paths and laying foundations for future happiness.
Time is what I worry about the most i think, I’m always aware of it, the days rolling by faster and faster, and I never seem to be able to catch onto its shirt tails, to land at the next destination, I don’t view it as an enemy, but more of a poltergeist who plays tricks on me.
Back to the last 3 years I hoped by now I’d be situated not really believing that I’d be so caught up in red tape that I’m still without a home to call my own, it’s so much more than that, I have no security, almost weightless as I bounce along on the wave of time, the waiting game at times is unbearable, I don’t want to be strong, or live on hope, I just want to be in the moment of time, not chasing it.
I thought I’d recovered and found that as the months had gone by old behaviours started to resurface, in my thoughts and actions, finally leading me to admit yet again I was staring down that long dark tunnel, even with self-awareness it scared me, that the spectre of depression was indeed nipping at my heels again, along with failing health and what little strength I possessed was fast disappearing.
The past few days have had me thinking long and hard about life in general, and several truths were hard to ignore, that yes I am homeless, and only knocking on doors and the involvement of my GP are the only things that can help me with that, if I’m offered counselling I’ll take, if I do the work required, only then can I can not only strength but the self-will to make changes.
Sounds a little like I’m beating myself up, well in a way I am, if I don’t change my thinking or take a different course, time will continue to steal from me, time that I can never get back.
I don’t like being late and I feel like I’m turning up to my own life late, there was a time when I showed up that you never knew what happened next, I want to have that power within my own life again, and of course still have a story to tell.