Its Lovely Being Home With

Had a meaning or memory.the day the drying out start. Something I’d wait weeks for, and been so excit about, delay because they found asbestos (lucky me) and having to have it remov, yet watching them remove wallpaper and some of the last pieces of skirting boards, broke me all over again, yet more of my little hidey hole was being damag or taken from me. After long weeks, of noisy machines, and extreme heat (well for my house) it was dry, yay, but a few days later.

How long it will take

I found a favourite book that I thought had Argentina Phone Number List escap, undamag, was damag beyond saving, another really hard blow, it was only a book, and a book I hadn’t read in a while, but it was another symbol, another part of me, gone. My safety zone As much as I feel lonely a lot of the time, being on my own in my little house, curl up on the sofa, was my safe place. I could escape the world, and my own intrusive thoughts. I could cry my heart out, or ignore the thoughts and sadness.

Phone Number List

Being able to curl up

It didn’t matter, either way. My house (and sofa, cushions and duvet) didn’t judge. They didn’t have an opinion, or try to help. It was my last BS Leads  comfort blanket I had left, and was taken from me in an instant. When I go to my house, it feels like my house, but doesn’t at the same time. The living room is basically a shell. Empty with only the quarry tiles on the floor, bits of wallpaper and my curtains over the window that looks out on the road. Everything that made it my home and my safe, quiet zone, gone. I’ll get it back and it will look ace. I’ll make sure of that.

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