Today I woke up, in my bed, surrounded by my things, and with Baby Cat lying next to me, except its not my place. On Wednesday we moved all of my things to my mother’s. Its mine, but it’s not mine anymore. I’m a temporary resident. I sold mom the couches and dining set. My bedroom furniture is her guest room. I am living at home again, but in a home that isn’t mine. I didn’t grow up here. There’s no emotional attachment to marks on the wall or blind familiarity with corners and sticky drawers the likes of which any number of my fellow millennials have experienced in returning to the architectural wombs of our childhoods. Continue reading “Moving Sucks”
I’ve been self-reliant since I was 17 years old. My life has been up’s and down’s since I was 4 when I lost my Mother. I’ve raised my kid brother from the age of 11 starting when I was 18.. I alone kept food in his mouth clothes on his back and for the most part, a dry bed to sleep in. All while fighting the recession .. He was 18 when he left and I was alone…. Alone for the first time in my life. I lost my house, my relationship, my little brother, friends, family and even my dog max…. down but not out. I stayed on a friend’s couch for 3 months.